


Hela's Entertainment

by melWinter



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, BAMF Loki, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Frost Giants aren't monsters, Gen, Jötunn Loki, Loki Angst, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki Posing as Odin, Loki is pissed, Loki-Warriors 3-Sif psuedo friendship, Loki-centric, Odin's A+ Parenting, Ragnarok, Thor-Loki Angst, Thor-Loki Brotherhood issues, Thor: The Dark World Spoilers, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 23:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 91,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8179390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melWinter/pseuds/melWinter
Summary: Hela is not warm and fluffy.  Nor is she Loki's daughter.  She is a ancient creature, self-titled the Goddess of the Underworld who desperately searches for entertainment.  A search that is difficult to find after existing for so long.  To amuse herself she will watch the living, and currently she finds the trickster of Asgard highly entertaining.With her assistance Loki has returned from death to answer one question.  But now Odin has died and Thor has abdicated his birthright in favor of Midgard.  With the throne now placed at the feet of a still enraged God of Mischief, a man still grieving the loss of his mother, what will happen?  Will he leave Thor to Midgard or torment his former brother?  Will Sif and the Warriors 3 survive under Loki's thumb?  Will he rule wisely...or will he bring about Ragnarok?





	1. Chapter 1

ASGARD - The Distant Past

_Green eyes from a young face flicked to the left as a figure sat down next to him on the bench.  She had a slight form with unusual coloring for a light elf.  Her pale skin was quite common but her hair was long and an unusually dark shade of black.  She was wearing the correct clothing for someone of a noble class but her posture was just a little too relaxed.  A little too casual.  Which could mean she wasn’t a noble at all.  Or perhaps it meant that she simply didn’t care about standing on service._

_“The prince seems discontent.”_

_Loki straightened a little on the bench at what could be taken as a casual observation, hastily scrubbing at the moisture on his face with the back of his hand.  He was only six seasons old, which was roughly fifty years old by a mortal calendar.  No one but mother paid attention to him so her voluntarily interacting with him surprised him.  Well, his brother did, of course, but just to encourage him to come to the training yard with him.  As soon as Thor had turned eight seasons, his focus had shifted entirely to learning to be the best warrior of Asgard._

_He was dressed exactly as he should be, but the dirt clinging to the knees of his breeches silently spoke of a recent fall. His fingers toyed with the hem of his dark green tunic, voice quiet and refined.  “I am well, thank you.”_

_She made a soft clucking sound with her tongue, but her green eyes just a shade darker than his own sparkled with amusement.  “My, my…did no one ever tell you it is impolite to lie to a friend?”_

_Loki looked up with a small frown, confusion dancing across his face.  “What friend?”_

_“I will be your friend if you like.”  She tilted her head a little towards him, a slight smirk tugging at her lips and her eyes full of secrets.  “I have watched you for the whole of your life and I find you quite entertaining.”_

_“You do?  Have we met?” Loki’s green eyes widened in surprise as he asked.  She didn’t look familiar, but then again he was just old enough to start attending official feasts.  He’d had a lot of people introducing themselves recently._

_“We just did.” Her reply was accompanied by another smirk, this one warm and welcoming._

_Loki giggled, a light sound that delighted the senses and caused an unconscious grin to form on both of their faces.  “Do you have a name?”_

_Again that amused quirk of her lip created a smirk as she spoke.  “Well I should hope so.  My name is Hela.”_

_Loki gave a proper nod of acknowledgement to her.  “A pleasure to meet you, Hela.”_

_Hela returned the gesture and was obviously highly entertained by his manners.  “Likewise, I am sure, Loki.”_

_Slowly his face formed a frown, cheeks coloring just enough to indicate embarrassment.  “How did you know I was lying?”_

_Hela didn’t take offense easily, and certainly not to lies.  Some of the people that entertained her the most were magnificent liars.  Her tone was dismissive.  “It is a gift I have carried since my creation.  Would you like to share it with me?”_

_“That is impossible.”  His young voice was full of confidence that he was right._

_“Nothing is impossible.  Improbable.  Unlikely.  But never impossible.”  She slowly lifted an eyebrow and gave him a strange look.  She couldn’t help but ask the question that followed.  “Haven’t you learned that in your magical studies?”  His face falling caused her own to mirror him.  Curiosity forced her to ask, “What is wrong?”_

_Loki looked down, letting his frizzy black hair fall into his eyes, his voice quiet.  “They make fun of me for learning magic, so I stopped.”  His finger unconsciously brushed at the dirt clinging to his breeches._

_Hela made an irritated noise to herself.  AEsir.  Such powerful creatures but so stagnant.  So BORING.  Their mockery of a male witch was so predictable.  They were little more than over-muscled bullies, in her opinion.  Just by looking at him she knew he would never be as robust as the other children here.  Yet more reason for them to mock him.  He may not understand yet at such a tender age, but magic would be his greatest ally.  Perhaps at times his only ally._

_She held out her palm and a ball of fire filled the space.  He watched in fascination, green eyes large from his small, pale face.  Her tone was instructive but passionate.  “Never let them take away who you are.  Magic chose you, the most powerful seidr ever born who bends Yggdrasil to your will.  Fight for who you are, Loki.”_

_His brow furrowed, unconsciously his lower lip pursing out just slightly in a pout.  “They’re bigger than me.”_

_Hela hid her amusement but couldn’t help tapping his lower lip with her index finger, letting the fire in her other palm dissipate.  His eyes widened further in horror, his entire face flushing as he sucked in his lower lip.  Mother had been warning him repeatedly that pouting was unbecoming for a warrior._

_Her lips tilted upward in amusement. “Well then I will teach you a trick that will help you with big bullies.”_

_Loki studied her for a moment as the red faded before he nodded decisively.  “Okay.  We can be friends.”  So she showed him a few tricks, things that the arms master wouldn’t approve of since most of them involved injuring an opponent’s balls.  They returned to the bench but he knew the answer before he even asked the question.  “You have to go now, don’t you?”_

_“Yes, but I wish to give you a gift.”_

_Her hand moved in a way that he thought might be sleight of hand, except he knew it wasn’t.  She pressed what was in her hand in his palm.  He carefully examined the small disc made out of some type of metal with intricate runes carved in it._

_“What is it?”  Loki asked with a frown of concentration on his face as he studied both sides._

_Hela shrugged casually, eyes drifting outward.  “The midgardians have a saying.”  She frowned delicately for a moment.  “No…I always get the past and the future mixed up…they **will** have a phrase.  This is a ‘get out of jail free’ card.”_

_Loki looked back down at the item that resembled a coin, voice thoroughly confused.  “Card?”  He’d seen the cards the warriors played with and this looked nothing like them._

_Her customary smirk changed to a grin, obviously pleased with all his interesting questions.  “In a manner of speaking.  Should you die, you can use this for a second chance.”_

_“How?”  Loki was very familiar with Valhalla, reading all that he could about it and any other subject spoken about.  He’d never heard of a way to come back from the land of eternal glory._

_She smirked and faded from sight, causing his jaw to drop and his eyes to widen in wonder.  Yet he heard her voice echo her words.  “Come find me and find out.”_

* * *

SVARTALFHEIM - Present Day

                Loki looked over his own body silently.  That is not to say that he was simply looking down at his torso and limbs.  To be more accurate, he was standing less than two feet from the prone corpse that he had once inhabited.

                He was dead and forgotten on a barren plane in Svartalfheim, his body run through by the creature who had killed his mother. At least he had managed to avenge her with the elf’s life in return.  But still, it was so disrespectful for his body to just lie here and slowly rot.  If he were alive he’d be pissed about it.  At least Thor had the decency to arrange his body properly before he went off to save the universe with his mortal lover in tow.  He doubted if the thunderer would return to collect him for a proper burning. 

                But he was dead so it didn’t bother him. Right now he didn’t feel much of anything.  The rage that had consumed him since he had learned of his true origins no longer mattered.  Thanos’ manipulations of his own emotions so that he hated all that Odin loved were no longer of consequence.  Indeed all that he had once cared so passionately about were of no concern.

                He glanced to the left to see a path of gold opening before him. In the great distance was the feasting hall where all those worthy of Valhalla drank and toasted their eternity.  Mother would be there.  His mouth may say nothing except lies but he couldn’t lie with his heart.  And she above anyone else had always understood that heart.  She was his mother.  She always would be.  He was birthed by some unknown female on Jötunheim but Frigga was the woman who raised him.  She taught him his first spells and was always there when he needed her.

                There was a deep longing within him to join her, to turn his back on the living for a reward well earned. He could feel the running of hooves under his feet.  No doubt the Valkyries were arriving to collect his soul and escort him to Valhalla.  He found it funny in a distant way.  That the trickster was found worthy.

                Every AEsir warrior who had mocked his less than honorable tactics in battle, they all so certain he was destined for Niflheim because he wasn’t a proper warrior of Asgard, were no doubt raging through the halls of Valhalla right now.  It would almost be worth it to go and rub his acceptance in their arrogant faces.

                But he looked to the right as a subtle darkness opened.  It was a soft darkness, caught between twilight and true darkness.  There were no shapes to discern a destination but there didn’t need to be.  He knew where it led. 

                There wasn’t much left worth living for. All but a question he desperately wanted answered.  It was his choice to make and with a soundless sigh he slipped through the second passage that had opened for him before he had no choice.  No one escaped once the Valkyries had their prize.

                He followed the dark path through to the underworld, stopping in front of the entrance to Helheim.  Garm guarded the way.  The immortal creature acted as the barrier that kept those not welcome in Helheim out.  Those not welcome being the living, for Helheim and Niflheim were the lands of the dead, depending on what fate was deserved.

                Garm held the body of an enormous black wolf and four golden eyes glared down at him.  But Loki always had his tricks even in death.  Grinning broadly, Loki produced a Hel cake silently and put it down on the ground with a flourish.  It was said that the dead would be given Hel cake to appease Helheim’s guard for giving bread to the poor during life. 

                The large sentinel gave Loki a distrusting look before moving aside to sniff at the cake.

                Garm’s large head jerked up a second later, smelling nothing, and with a laugh both the copy of Loki and the cake disappeared in the same instance. As if he had ever given the poor bread.  Gold was so much more practical to offer them and Loki had never been partial to it.  The guardian snarled but was appeased quickly, lying back down across the entrance.

                Loki knew why. The Queen awaited him.

                He walked forward soundlessly, down the singular path that led to the entrance. The palace of black rock loomed before him, a colossal structure easily seen even from miles away.  It was the home and lair of the Goddess of the Underworld.  Lady Death.  Or as she had been introduced to him just before his sixth season, Queen Hela.

                Loki looked around as he walked through Hela’s throne room.  He kept a dangerous smirk on his face and sauntered forward with confidence.  There were souls off to one side in chains, no doubt bound for Niflheim when Hela got around to them.  The dishonorable.  The damned.  The souls that would spend a painful eternity finding regret that would never be enough to pay the debt of a wicked life.

                She was lounging on her throne, not wearing the elven disguise he had been introduced to but in her natural skin. The right side of her face was porcelain beauty, the left side skeletal horror.  No one knew how she had come into being.  There were stories that she was his daughter.  Obviously untrue since she was far older than he was.  She had been reigning over the dead since long before Borr had been born, Odin’s father.  Perhaps it was just because they were such similar creatures was where the confusion was bred.

                She smiled at him slyly as he stopped a half dozen steps from her. “Well…Prince Loki, what a surprise.”

                Taking the coin out of his pocket that she’d given him as a child and flipping it towards her, his smirk growing.  “I fail to see why you are surprised.”

                She caught the coin effortlessly without turning her head, still watching him.  “I have never had anyone destined for Valhalla choose to stay.”

                “I pride myself in being unpredictable.”  Loki shrugged dismissively as he offered a convenient reason.  There was only one reason he wanted to cling to life for just a little bit longer.  One answer he would have at all cost.

                “Indeed.  It’s what I enjoy the most about you.”

                Loki’s eyebrow quirked upward, head tilting slightly in curiosity.  “So that’s it?  Back I go?”

                Hela shrugged a single shoulder, holding out her goblet for it to be refilled.  Her eyes, however, didn’t leave his face.  “Essentially, but I am curious.  What are you going to do with it?”

                Blankness fell across his face, hiding everything.  “To find out the truth.”

                She nodded to herself, pursing the fleshy part of her lips, her head turned to hide bone in the shadows.  “Mhmm…a sharp sword at times.”

                His brow slowly furrowed as he studied her eyes.  Those deep, secretive eyes that held so much knowledge.  She hoarded her knowledge with the same ferocity that he hoarded secrets but the pair of them had always had an understanding of sorts.  “Do you know…”

                She could see by the slight movement of his eyes that he stopped himself from continuing because of the dead that drifted through the walls of the throne room.  Hela waved a dismissive hand at them.  Most of these spirits had been dead for so long they were no longer aware of what went on around them.  Even those that were younger and listening--what did it matter? 

                She shrugged slightly. “They’re dead, Loki.  Ask.”

                His lips tightened for just a moment before relaxing.  “How well do you know the AEsir?”

                Her green eyes flicked to an AEsir warrior mumbling to himself, slumped against a wall.  “There is not a singular species that has not had at least a few of them wash onto my shores.  I know the AEsir as well as any other.”

                “Odin.”  The word was said sharply.  So many emotions boiling around that singular word.  He knew he wasn’t alive yet, his body still on Svartalfheim, but he suddenly felt a re-established connection with those spiraling emotions that had nearly driven him insane.  He could almost taste his own rage.

                She was not surprised at all that he was the topic.  Hela nodded affirmatively.  “He is known to me.”  It’s not that she knew the AEsir’s thoughts, but she knew him well enough.

                “Why would he…why?”  Loki’s brow furrowed as he left the question as it was.

                _Why would he lie to me? Why did he take me?_

                Loki knew that Hela could only guess as much as he could.  But she had been around a great deal longer.  He was more inclined to give her suspicions credence over his own.  He was almost hoping he was wrong.

                Hela studied Loki for a moment, considering him carefully before speaking.  “Why would he take a young Jötunn, raise him by impossible standards in secret and conveniently fall into Odin sleep when the truth was revealed?”  Loki only flinched once, but he was clearly listening carefully.  “Initially, I would think pity would have something to do with it.”  He blinked at her in surprise.  “At least until he saw that child’s markings and identified him as a child of Laufey.”  She shook her head slightly.  “After that…hiding that child’s origins would be an act that would cover his kingly ass as much as it would be an act of protection for that child.  I can well imagine the AEsir would be unamused to learn that their king doesn’t even follow his own edicts.”

                Loki shook his head, asking softly, “Why would he keep this from me?”

                Hela’s lips curled slightly in amusement.  “As much of a fool as I find him, I believe that Odin was at least aware of your initial reaction to such news.  You were more useful as a competitor with Thor for his affection.  There was probably also the want to protect you from such information as it would be troubling to you.”  Loki made a scoffing sound.  “I am merely giving my opinion, little princeling.  What you choose to believe or do with such thoughts is in your hands.”  Her amusement faded as she asked him carefully, “How well do you understand the AEsir?”

                Loki slowly raised an eyebrow.  “I was raised by them.”

                She nodded and gestured slightly, her silky voice wrapping around him.  “Then you would know that it is the dream of every AEsir warrior to fall in battle.  Five thousand years and Odin never fell.  But the prophecy of Ragnarok--ah.  Now that would be such a glorious battle with a no doubt fatal end.”

                “What prophecy?”  The blankness on Loki’s face and the blandness in his voice were very easily dismissed if one was foolish.  Hela was not.  She knew that what lay beneath that forced blandness was a rage that could destroy the nine realms.  Odin was such an old fool for not realizing just how dangerous a game he was playing with this brilliant, volatile son.

                She steepled her fingers together, each digit touching, and spoke carefully.  “The prophecy that foretells that you will bring about the fall of the AEsir.  It gets a little whimsical even for my tastes.”

                “A prophecy known to Odin.”  A growl had entered Loki’s voice, but still that forced blandness.

                Hela shrugged lightly.  “He may not believe it, but it may have given him ideas.”  Her green eyes flicked to an undetermined direction, as if she could see Asgard from her throne.  Perhaps she could.  “A child like Thor could never be pushed hard enough to instigate war with his own people.”

                Loki’s lip curled slightly, teeth gleaming as he bared them to speak.  “But a child like Loki--…”

                Hela nodded and continued the thought.  “Who already feels rejected and cast out…”

                One of his fists clenched and shook as he finished.  “Would welcome it.”

                She shrugged again.  “That might be what he, in his foolishness, is counting on.”  For an AEsir to die honorably in battle, or as an act of self-sacrifice would gain instant admittance into Valhalla.  “Nothing is more frightening to an AEsir than to face dying peacefully of old age rather than in glory.”  An AEsir dying from age or disease could still gain access to Valhalla, but magic and Yggdrasil would judge all of their actions.  Idly Loki wondered what actions Odin was concerned about that might bar the old king from Valhalla.

                Loki nodded slowly to himself, eyes distant.  It made a sick, logical sense.  He would press the issue just to be sure.  There was probably some small glimmer of affection that Odin felt for him, but it was buried under how useful Loki was to him.  A hundred years ago he would have accepted that small glimmer gratefully and arranged for a way Odin could die with honor and glory.

                “Then I won’t do it.” He smiled slowly, cruelly.  “In fact…I have something else in mind.”

                Her smile slowly matched his in cruelty as much as it did in amusement.  “Will you be sending many to keep me company?”

                It was only fair, after all.  Of anyone in the nine realms she was the only one who had remained his steadfast friend.  Perhaps the wrong descriptor for Hela but ironically he felt closer to her than anyone else in his life.

                … _and Hela was ever so lonely_.

                His eyes flashed green, baring his teeth in a feral mockery of a smile.  “At least one more.”

* * *

ASGARD

                “…Loki…”  Loki let the disguise over his face and body fade, a form that allowed him to pass as a lowly guard.  He looked down almost dispassionately at the sprawled form of the man he had once called father.  That had been the last thing Odin had uttered before he collapsed. 

                No speeches. No angst.  All it had taken was the confirmation of his own death.  Loki hadn’t even been cruel in delivering the news while under disguise to the old king.  He had just wanted to see Odin’s reaction.  And the picture had painted itself eloquently over Odin’s face.  The regret.  A brief flash of pain.  But before his body had crumpled down the throne steps Loki had seen the rest in his eye.  The disappointment.  The desperation.

                The trickster had the answer he’d returned for, but he wish he didn’t. Hela had been right.

                Loki didn’t move just yet, looking the man who was a better liar than he was over with his eyes. Odin was just sleeping, for now.  Which seemed to happen more and more frequently lately.  Frequently enough that anyone with sense would know Odin’s time was nearly up.

                The rage was still a howling beast in Loki’s mind, pushing back any shred of sentiment and regret.  He debated the merits of giving Odin the death he desired for the briefest of moments.  A dagger to the heart would be a quick, clean kill.  But then he shook his head.  Such an act would no doubt send Odin to Valhalla.  He was too vexed with Odin to ever be so merciful.  There was another possibility.  He could disguise Odin with his own face and throw him back into the dungeons.  No one would ever know or question the quiet passing of the second son.

                But Loki was smarter than that.  He coveted the throne to prove Odin wrong.  But truly becoming the man that he both hated and loved would push him into a madness he wouldn’t recover from.  As it was he was barely holding onto what shred of sanity still remained.

                After a silent moment he stretched out next to the old king on the steps, knowing he would be heard. Like a coma, words would still reach Odin during his Odin-sleep.  They were alone at the moment so it didn’t matter.  Loki smirked and spoke, “As I had been about to say, All-father, the body was on Svartalfheim.  But then Loki spoke with Hela and reclaimed his flesh back as his own.  And no, I had been granted access to Valhalla but I returned as a matter of spite.” 

                His question was more or less answered. Odin loved the boy he had been but was shamed by the man he had become: a mage who didn’t fight like an AEsir warrior.  A man who didn’t think like Odin and refused to be boxed and limited like everyone else here.  Loki balked at tradition.  Balked at doing what was expected or allowed.  Rules were ever so tedious.

                There was still a glimmer of that old affection Odin carried but it was overshadowed with Loki’s usefulness in bringing about the old king’s end. An end that would gain him the access to Valhalla he craved as well as an end to the grief with Frigga’s loss.  Loki could easily guess the rest.  Odin was disappointed that Loki hadn’t grown up to be the sycophant he’d hoped for.  Further shamed that he’d raised a suicide, even if the truth had been covered up so the rest of Asgard would never know.  Most damning of all, that Loki was too clever and strong-willed to ever be a grateful puppet king for Jötunheim like Honir foolishly was for Vanaheim. 

                That and he would never be the obedient footstool for Thor’s glorious ascension as king of Asgard. The time for that possibility was long past.

                “I know you can hear me, Odin. I know that even now your conscious mind struggles against the crushing tide of your own magic.  You will sink further and further away, your heart will slow and eventually…it will stop.  This time there will be no one to fish you back out.” 

                It was why mother always stayed at the old king’s side during his Odin-sleep, after all. She was there for protection’s sake, of course, but also to assist Odin should he drift too far away.  With her death there was only himself if he were inclined.  He wasn’t. 

                “If you awaken then you and I will deal with matters…but I doubt that will be the case.” Loki just wasn’t quite certain how matters would be dealt with if that did occur.  He no longer feared death, and he had little love for life left within him.  Green eyes flicked down the prone form, smirking to himself.  “I will not kill you nor in any way help you along the path towards death.  I will leave your fate to the judgment of the world tree and be satisfied with what is just…as you once did for me.” 

                Loki grinned maliciously, but there was something else blended with it. Something in his eyes that eloquently displayed a hesitation.  A shame.  For no one spoke of suicide.  He may strive to be limitless but even he could succumb to the perceptions of the people that raised him.  Only because Odin was not awake and couldn’t rebuke him did he speak further.  “It must be so delightful for you.  The suicide that you sheltered and are shamed by has beaten you.  What is it that Tyr had said?  Better to have died a coward than to die a suicide.  Oh.  No, that was you.  Tyr is a bit more colorful than you.  Better that the dam carrying a suicide dies in childbirth than to allow such shame to pass over the rest of the family.” 

                He shrugged suddenly as if he didn’t care, mind moving back to the topic at hand. “Eventually Thor will come and when he does I will let him decide.  Not about your fate, of course, but he will decide who will rule.” 

                It would only be a matter of days before Thor returned to Asgard, and Loki would sit on the throne in disguise until then. If Thor agreed to take up the mantle of king then Loki would bow out gracefully and devise a fitting end for himself since he had little interest in living now that his question was answered.  If, however, Thor chose to turn his back on the golden realm then Loki would take the rest of the AEsir with him. 

                “Mortals have made him so soft lately. He is worthy of the throne by your standards, but now he does not want it.  Ironically funny.  Not to worry.  I will take **good** care of Asgard if Thor so foolishly abandons her as I suspect he will.”  Loki sarcastically emphasized the word good.  The AEsir wanted to perish in glory.  As king he would see that their wish was granted.

                His hand moved and hovered a small distance from Odin’s temple as if to brush away a stray white strand before lowering again, the action incomplete. “You may even wonder why I don’t gain the satisfaction of your death and the answer is simple.  You took your time teaching Thor honor and love.” Bitterness entered his voice, thinking of all the time set aside for Thor that he was denied.  “All of your focus was for your trueborn son.  There wasn’t enough time to properly teach a trickster fosterling that shamed you.  But I did learn hate, you gave me that much.”  Loki shrugged lazily.  “So the answer is simple.  I hate you just enough to not aid you in achieving what you want.”  Loki bared his teeth brightly as if he were smiling when he truly wasn’t.  “Now, off to bed with you while I await your heir.”

* * *

 

**Author's Notes:**

Hello everyone.  This is just a quick note to reassure that this will not be a 80+ chapter epic tale.  There will however be small attempts of humor thrown in because that's kind of my thing.  There shall be some much deserved verbal Odin-slaps and some Thor-chastisement, 'cause TDW showed a really ugly side of Asgard that needs addressing.  You might need a Kleenix by the end.

**Next:**

The prodigal son returns; Odin learns his fate


	2. Chapter 2

ASGARD

                The day was quite temperate outside of the palace of Asgard.  Within the throne room the courtiers were on one side and a few council members were on the other.  Even the warriors 3 and Sif were here, they frowning at one another as they tried to figure out who had sent the note insisting upon their attendance in court.

                Activity ground to a halt as the double doors opened to the throne room, what everyone assumed was a specter entering.  Thor had returned to Asgard just two days ago to report Loki’s death and the circumstances surrounding it before leaving again.  The scribes had already committed the fact of Loki’s assumed ascension into Valhalla within the Hall of the Dead.  The boat was being prepared as an official funeral rite though no body had been recovered.

                Eyes widened throughout court, Odin stiffening almost imperceptively from his throne. Nothing was said.  No one dared to even move as the familiar figure decked in leather, a combination of green and tarnished gold, walked the distance to the appropriate place and stopped before the steps to the throne.

                Blank, unreadable expressions were on both faces, assessment flowing back and forth before Odin spoke without surprise.  Without inflection.  “So it was all a falsehood.”  The scribes had written down every detail.  Thor’s glorious battle to stop the dark elves and save the whole of the universe.  Loki’s noble sacrifice to save the first prince of Asgard.  Odin had announced before court and all of Asgard that all of Loki’s crimes had been forgiven to ensure Asgard’s second son a smooth transition into Valhalla.  “Why have you returned, Loki?  No one was searching.  Thor reported your death, a fitting warrior’s end.  You could have slipped away with ease.”

                A retort would have been expected.  Everyone in the throne room was waiting for a viper’s remark of some sort to pass Loki’s lips since it was almost unheard of for the youngest son of Odin to not have something pithy to say.

                Odin wasn’t actually on the throne.  The true All-Father was long past the point of a response.  Currently it was one of Loki’s magical tricks, a shade, on the throne.  Unlike one of his less impressive illusions, this one could be talked to and interacted with.  A whipcord of magic was holding Gungnir aloft so that it appeared as if the shade held it.

                Loki didn’t reply to the shade.  This farce may be his plan but he hated this part.  It shouldn’t be necessary, in his opinion.  He shouldn’t have to justify himself to these…people.  But he knew that what should be and what was were two different things.  For his ascension to the throne to be successful and not result in a civil war, a little theater was necessary.

                Hence the necessity of those present.  Some were influential amongst the warriors.  The rest held sway of the nobles and Advisory Council for the king.  Sif and the Warriors 3 were here simply because those fools would never believe anything they didn’t see for themselves when it concerned him.

                His lips were pressed tightly together as he slipped off first one gauntlet and then the other. Each hit the stone floor, the sounds of their impact echoing through the silent throne room.  A flick of his wrist magically unfastened the many buckles and ties that kept his light armor in place, allowing him to easily slip off the jacket and jerkin until he was standing before them all in just a green tunic over his leather breeches.

                Sif’s eyes weren’t the only ones that widened, but she was the one bold enough to cross the distance.  Looks were exchanged amongst the Warriors 3.  They’d all been in battle with Loki for centuries.  None of them remembered such a wound on the mage.  It was possible it was just an elaborate trick, which is why she approached.  She, more than anyone, knew that Loki’s illusions didn’t hold up to touch. 

                She pressed her hand lightly against the ugly tear in the tunic, seeing and feeling the scar tissue left behind. The barely sealed hole that went from back to front that was still in the process of healing.  Thorough without inflicting pain, her dark eyes flicked up to meet the trickster’s who didn’t once flinch away.  He may not enjoy anyone in his personal space but the whole point had been to show a truth that none would believe just by hearing it.  Not from his lips.

                Turning back, Sif bowed her head respectfully to the king who had watched silently. “A mortal wound, sire.”

                The old king stood from his throne and walked soundlessly down the steps, Gungnir held in hand.  The only sounds were the audible thumps of the end of the spear on top of each step.  His blue eye kept moving to the half covered wound that gave silent testimony to an AEsir death, yet the body before him was living.  “Loki?”

                Loki knelt suddenly, head ducked low, and a sharp gasp tore through the crowd as Sif jerked back several steps in surprise.  Every eye was focused on Loki so no one noticed Odin become transparent for the span of a blink of the eye.  The trickster felt the flicker in his illusion and immediately put more focus so that ‘Odin’ remained solid. 

                Loki didn’t pause in speaking, his voice as smooth and rich as ever. “I returned as soon as I had healed enough to survive the journey.  I humbly come before you All-father to beg your forgiveness.  I will complete any task or submit to any punishment; any station you will my life I will gladly accept if eventually I may be allowed to return to Asgard.”

                It was surreal.  All that was happening were but fanciful musings that many had had but no one had believed Loki was even capable of.  The second prince had always been too arrogant.  A man incapable of sincerity.  A man who held too much pride and seemed to look down on not just their society, but their king as well.  Odin’s voice was still without inflection and no one could figure out what he was thinking.  “Any?”

                Loki’s shoulders hunched and shook ever so slightly, voice wavering.  “Please, father, say I can earn back your love.  Name my penance.  My rebellion is ended and I will make any vow you require to prove this.”

                Odin took a slight step back, using his staff as a means of support.  Clearly the old king was as shocked as those present.  But the king of Asgard was not one to remain off balance for long.  Slowly Odin nodded before speaking.  “You fought to the death to save your brother’s life, an act relayed to me by his own lips...actions that I have decreed redeemed you before Asgard’s eyes.  That decree shall stand, for the honor of your actions has not been lessened merely because you survived.”  Volstagg and Fandral were sputtering silently but neither were about to offer a differing opinion.  Not to the All-father of the nine realms.  Hogun looked quite thoughtful, grim as ever, but suspicious as he stared at Loki.  Sif paled as she stared at her king.  Even as Odin continued speaking, he seemed to weaken before their eyes.  “You have returned to Asgard, desiring of nothing more than what is granted a commoner.  The arrogant is now the humble--…”

                Gungnir clattered to the ground, making those in court jump.  With nothing to support him, Odin fell back as Loki lurched forward to catch him.  The others swarmed around the pair but none dared to touch their sovereign as Loki carefully let him rest upon the ground.

                “Fetch Eir!”

                A weathered hand shakily rose and touched one of Loki’s cheeks, fresh salt on his skin.  Green eyes met blue before Odin closed his eye tiredly.  “You need no punishment, Loki.  Thor has…has abdicated his crown and abandoned his people.”  Sif felt the bitterness that had been festering with Thor’s absence grow in her heart.  She shared a look with the Warrior’s three, all of them feeling a quiet betrayal with that truth.  They all knew that Thor had returned to Midgard but none of them had known about this.  Odin’s hand fell weakly away, his skin graying as his voice softened.  “You will care for what he has forsaken.”

                “Father--…”  No one was sure what Loki was about to protest and no one would ever know as he choked on the word.

                Odin’s voice was quite soft, but it instantly stopped the trickster from speaking.  “Loki Odinson…”  Everyone leaned in further, listening fiercely.  “I name you my heir and crowned prince.”

                Some dropped their jaws.  Those that did had hoped that Odin would send Loki as a messenger to Midgard to demand the thunderer’s return.  Others shuddered in fear of what would become of Asgard with Loki ruling over them.

                Loki seemed to visibly fight with himself for something to say before nodding gravely while swallowing.  “Your will, my king.”

                “Lead Asgard…to glory!”  It was like Odin used his last breath to speak, his body sagging in a last exhale as he stilled.  A shocked hush fell over everyone present.

                Loki dropped his head down to touch his father’s shoulder with his forehead even as Eir swiftly moved through the crowd and knelt on the other side.  She didn’t even have to touch Odin.  A silently uttered spell confirmed what she already felt.  The shell before her held no soul. 

                The prince’s shoulders moved silently, one hand fisting the golden armor even as Eir slowly stood and bowed her head in sorrow. All those present bowed as well, mourning the passing of a king.

                Loki’s fist tightened around a sharp edge of Odin’s armor enough to hurt to keep the tears flowing, his stifled giggles shaking his frame again and sounding remarkably like almost hidden sobs.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Odin walked forward with his brow furrowed and feeling crushingly confused.  He was aware enough that he knew he was missing memories but he had no clue what they were.  He remembered Thor escaping Asgard with Jane Foster and Loki on a foolish quest to save the petite mortal’s life.  He remembered a guard entering the throne room to announce that Loki had died on that quest.  After that…

                 His conscious mind shifted to now. He had no idea how he had transitioned from one point to another.  But he was compelled to continue walking forward.  His jaw dropped as he entered the throne room and recognized the figure on the throne.  He was in Helheim.  His eye swept over those present before looking back to the figure lounging on her throne.  “What is the meaning of this?”

                Hela slowly raised her singular eyebrow at the incredulous tone.  Her own tone was as if instructing a simple child.  “This would be Helheim.”  She was well used to this.  There was often a period where amnesia would grip a soul as it shuffled loose the mortal coil.  It usually faded after a few minutes or hours.  Although if the death was traumatic enough sometimes it never faded.

                Having her confirm where he was, he knew what it meant.  It meant that he was dead.  Odin visibly stiffened, arrogance puffing up his chest.  “You would dare to address the King of Asgard so informally?”

                A smirk tugged at the flesh side of her lip.  “Well I am the queen of this realm.  Besides…you’re not a king anymore.  Loki is.”

                “He--…”  Odin trailed off, mouth parted and eye wide in shock, as the ruler of Helheim’s words sunk in.  _Loki was alive? Loki was king?_

                Hela mentally corrected that Loki would be crowned king within a few days but that was a minor detail.  She chuckled dryly at his expression as she spoke.  “My, my…speechless.  How priceless.”

                “Thor is in line for succession!”  Odin’s indignant exclamation echoed through the vast throne room.

                Hela just slowly nodded as if in agreement, holding out her goblet for it to be filled with more wine.  “Yes, he was.  I believe your eldest abdicated to Loki upon his return to Asgard and retreated to Midgard with tail tucked firmly between his legs.”  Slowly dawning horror crossed Odin’s face and Hela just shrugged casually.  “Thor is allowed to choose anyone, after all.  One of your father’s laws I believe.  But the trickster is clever.  He made arrangements so his ascension to the throne was more to Asgard’s palate.”  Even she felt a flicker of annoyance on Loki’s behalf.  If Thor had appointed anyone else it would have been accepted without hesitation.  But because it was Loki only an act witnessed and indisputably proven would be accepted.

                Odin looked down as the words were absorbed even though his mind was still reeling.  Loki was king and he was dead.  His brow furrowed again in confusion.  “Why am I here?”

                “You died, of course.”  She took a languid swallow before explaining further when his confusion didn’t lessen.  “You perished, Odin Borson.  Are you really so surprised?”

                That is not what he meant and she knew it.  He meant: why was he in Helheim instead of Valhalla.  “Five thousand years of winning battles and wars for Asgard’s glory and I am found **unworthy** of Valhalla??”  His voice started as a rumble but ended with a roar of outrage.

                Hela didn’t look the least bit impressed by his temper, leaning forward slightly and asking softly, “How did you die?”

                “Loki--…”

                She waved a dismissive hand, cutting Odin off effortlessly.  “No.  Loki is cleverer than that.  Try again.”  Hela didn’t witness what transpired but she understood the trickster better than the All-father ever had.  Loki was far too angry to be charitable enough to kill Odin.  The God of Chaos would do whatever was necessary to ensure that Odin never got what he wanted…and Odin wanted Valhalla more than anything.  If Loki had killed Odin, Valhalla would probably have been an unavoidable fate for the AEsir king.

                Odin’s blue eye became distant, remembering the rush of emotions as the lone guard revealed that his youngest had not survived the dark elves.  The last moments slowly came to him and he spoke what he remembered softly.  “I fell into sleep.  If Loki lives and sits on the throne then it was his machinations that are responsible.”

                “But how did you die?”  Odin blinked and glanced at her in surprise.  She gave him an irritated look and rattled off a definition that he should know.  “Direct cause of death can have some bearing on your final resting place.  His machinations, as you phrased it, may have triggered your sleep but they did not cause your death.”  She smiled cruelly, mockingly, still looking at him as if he were an ignorant child.  “You don’t really think Loki sat at your bedside to guide you back.  Not after turning your back on him as you did.”  She gestured grandly to the figure that was as real as it was transparent.  “You succumbed to your body’s weakness.”

                “I was judged by…”  Odin stopped himself from saying it as his mouth set in a grim line.  He was judged by Yggdrasil...and found lacking.  Pain and failure fought within him but he would allow neither to escape.

                “The boy truly did gain his creativity from you.”  Her words were like a slap to the face.  Odin stiffened but Hela ignored him, sipping her wine and looking thoughtful.  “Your heir may have required tutelage to be a worthy successor to your legacy but you really should have focused more attention on the younger of the two.”  Odin frowned at her.  “Compassion Thor heels to…Loki does not and his power is undeniable.”

                Odin rumbled gruffly. “Loki is not a man Asgard will yield to.”

                Hela grinned brightly. “I would normally make a wager but the point is moot.  He is king…and they are yielding.”  She tilted her head slightly. “Perhaps what you mean to say is that Loki is not a man who yields to your Asgard.  Your legacy.”  Loki yields to none.  He will set up his own legacy. 

                Her eyes swept over the form of the All-father. He was here for a reason.  Hela continued the thought vocally, a vicious gleam in her eyes.  “I wonder what found you unworthy.  Not enough dishonor for Niflheim…just enough that Helheim was the only place you could go.  An ordinary citizen’s eternity.”  Odin flinched.  “The wars that you fought that you in fact arranged.  The lies that you committed that resulted in death.  Or perhaps it was even more recent than that.  Yggdrasil has always held Loki in high favor.  Perhaps it was that you banished him to a lifetime in the dungeons when you knew of his innocence.”

                Odin snarled suddenly, losing all of his prized control over his emotions. “His actions were his own responsibility to shoulder.”

                She wagged a finger in Odin’s direction and corrected him. “Not when they are flavored and influenced by the will of another.  Even AEsir do not hold a warrior responsible when they are not in control of those actions.”  Then she gave him a longer look.  “At least…not during your father’s honorable reign.” 

                Hela had always held more respect for Borr than Odin. From what she knew, Loki would have been better off raised by the elder king than Odin.  Borr had always prized might among the warriors but knew a clever prince was vital for Asgard’s continuation.  It was why Borr had gone against tradition and announced Odin as his heir, the youngest of three sons.  No doubt Odin resented that his progeny by blood lacked in intellect compared to the progeny he took in.  But then Borr wouldn’t have hesitated in smiting every last Frost Giant if Jötunheim had brought war during his reign so perhaps matters were better as they were.

                Odin turned from her, shaking his head and trying to justify his actions with what he’d convinced himself was mercy. “The boy was mad.  The choice was imprisonment or execution.  I chose to spare his mother further grief.”

                Hela huffed a laugh of amusement, her green eyes moving in a different direction. Perhaps in the direction of where Thanos currently was, the mad titan plotting the destruction of the nine realms.  There was some truth to Odin’s statement, as there was in most things that he said.  But the complete truth was that Odin was trying to spare Frigga **and** himself from that grief. 

                He had truly loved the boy Loki had been, but the trickster hadn’t been that sweet child in a long time. And the truth was that Loki had grown into a man that he didn’t understand.  An embittered, jealous, angry man whose loyalty was questionable enough that he didn’t trust Asgard’s fate to him.

                Hela nodded slowly. “Yes, driven mad from the months of silent darkness in the abyss as he tumbled between the branches. Further helped along by Thanos’ manipulations.”

                He didn’t respond at first. If he had been alive, those words might have likely stopped his heart.  Odin slowly he turned to stare at the Goddess of the Underworld in horrified surprise.  “…Thanos…”  He hadn’t known.  Hadn’t even suspected the mad titan was behind all this but he supposed he should have.  His face slowly crumbled in remorse.  Loki would have had no chance on his own against Thanos.

                She shrugged easily, amusement curling her lips. “Such a sly creature.  He nurtured the seed of hate Loki held for Jötunn, hate taught to him by your people, until the boy hates his own existence.  Then the Titan took the rage Loki held against you and refocused it into an irrational rage against all that you loved.  He will seek not death, but obliteration to destroy all memory of the body that is his…and unwittingly complete the mad titan’s wishes.”

                “I did not know…” What could have started as a plea was cut off quickly, his old eye assessing her and sounding full of reproach.  “You could have stopped this.”  She could travel between realms and needed no Bi-frost to accomplish it.   Her magic was at the very least on equal terms with Loki’s, if not more so than his because of the knowledge she’d accumulated over thousands of years.

                Hela rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “I am Lady Death, you old fool.  I care not what happens to the rest of you.  I am a selfish creature with selfish ambitions.  I care about being entertained and when I am morbidly bored of this life I will set my army of the dead on the living, tip the balance, snap the world tree, and end you all.”  Odin just continued to stare at her in horror and she shrugged again.  “Why do you think I am so happy you have arrived?  When that day comes, I will need a general to lead those armies.  Who better than the AEsir who never knew defeat in life?”

                “I will not do it.”

                She bared her teeth in a feral smile. “I own your soul now, Borson.  You have no choice.”

                The old king was silent for a long moment before slowly nodding to himself, certainty in his gaze. “Thor will stop him.”

                “Your son is as much a fool as you are. There is no stopping him.  There is no controlling him.  Loki is the God of Chaos for a reason.  There is only choice.  Loki chooses to set these events in motion…only by his choice will the nine realms be spared.”  Hela’s voice was filled with mocking, though her expression turned sly the next instant.  “Although, technically, you could have stopped him.”

                “I?”

                A formality entered her words, her body stiffening. No longer the trickster queen but now the sovereign over the dead.  “No man, king or otherwise, has the right to deny funeral rites to an acknowledged child.  You denied Loki his right to mourn his mother…a dishonorable act that Yggdrasil does not forgive easily.”  Odin returned her gaze just as stiffly but refused to move or be moved.  She quirked her eyebrow inquiringly as she questioned him, knowing he wouldn’t answer.  “Did you know it was that act that tipped the scales for him?  Ever since your lies were revealed, he balanced between hate for you and love.  If you had allowed him that right, he would have slipped away from Asgard quietly.”  His brow furrowed slightly as if to question the truth of her words but she just smiled knowingly.  “Now he will make all the living pay for your actions.”

                “Ragnarok is not real.” Odin spoke with finality.

                Hela nodded in agreement. “True.  A legend.  A fairytale.  But Loki is a clever boy, half mad from grief who hates his own existence and blames Asgard for her loss…I’m sure if anyone could accomplish it, he can.”  She glanced at her nails before baring her teeth in a mockery of a smile.  “I will even make a wager.”

                “A wager?” Odin sounded wary, knowing it was never advised to lightly enter a bargain with Lady Death.

                She stood up from her throne and flowed down the short steps. “You will find Borson that death can be quite monotonous after a millennium or two.  Eventually we watch the living to occupy ourselves.  It is always advised to keep me entertained.  Even I will sometimes find a favorite if they surprise me…the boy has always been skilled at doing so.”  She stopped in front of him, staring through him as if she could see every secret he had ever hidden.  He was not entirely certain she couldn’t.  “I wager that he will succeed in his endeavor, or perish in the attempt.”

* * *

 

**Author's Notes:**

_Mwahahaha...(gotta love evil laughs).  Odin gets exactly what he deserves.  Well, if we want to really be fair there's a nice warm place for him to retire to but this works well enough, I suppose._

**Next:**

_Loki learns an ugly truth;  Sif and the Warriors 3 chat with the King of Asgard_

 


	3. Chapter 3

ASGARD

                Loki took his time, silently fussing at the formal armor that he would wear every day as Asgard’s king. _King_.

                In his mind he replayed his return from death on Svartalfheim.  Hela had kept her word, his body his own, and he’d used it to travel to Asgard under disguise.  After Odin had fallen into sleep, it was only a matter of time before Thor had appeared.  His brother was predictable as ever, denying his right to the throne in favor of returning to Midgard to play.  Loki could admit he was more than slightly pleased Thor abdicated to him, as he sat on Odin’s throne wearing Odin’s face.  He smirked grimly at the memory.

                That farce in the throne room of just a few days ago had been for Asgard’s benefit.  Asgard needed a king so he had arranged that little drama so he could be a king the golden realm would accept. An illusion of Odin had sat on his throne when in reality the real Odin had died just that morning.  Loki had of course played his part to the hilt, using magic and illusion so that court would witness a melodramatic version of the passing of a crown.  He’d made certain Thor’s little merry band of tag-a-longs had been there so they couldn’t dispute it later.  A quick teleport and Odin’s true body was placed where the illusion had fallen, just in time for Eir to pronounce him dead.

                _Now all of Asgard will mourn the death of a king as his prodigal son ascends. A storybook ending that Asgard would accept.  Fools_ , was all he could think. _Every last one of them_.

                Sif was the only one who had at least tried to determine illusion from not and he knew Hogun was suspicious of him.  He had other plans at the moment as today the throne would officially be his but his ‘friends’ were going to have to be dealt with.  _What was that mortal saying? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_.  Killing them would be the easiest solution yet for some reason he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

                _Sentiment_.

                Loki grimaced as the word slithered through his mind.  His reaction was mostly because he hadn’t heard the word with his own voice.  That last thought had sounded like Thanos.

                He had spent nearly a year in the dungeons after his orchestrated defeat on Midgard and he had spent the majority of that time trying to piece himself back together.  The amount of time spent alone hadn’t helped, which was why he’d created a series of illusions to help him remember at least a shadow of who he’d once been.

                A younger Loki with frizzy black hair swirled into existence wearing a green tunic under a leather jerkin and both over black breeches.  A Loki from about five hundred years ago.  A boy who still believed he could earn his father’s love. 

                The teenager tilted his head a little before shrugging. “Sentiment is what held us together.  Was it not our love for mother and Thor that kept our secrets safe from Thanos?”

                Not that there was much Thanos didn’t forcibly extract from his mind but he still held a few secrets.  Loki slowly lifted a single eyebrow at the illusioned boy, sarcasm in his tone.  “Was it not that love that killed us in the first place?”  His mind immediately moved to the moment he had saved Thor’s life on Svartalfheim at the cost of his own.

                The AEsir believed he had no concept of honor, which was completely untrue.  He just didn’t believe in their version of honor.  He believed in a fair exchange.  Thor had just saved his life.  Brother or not, the favor had to be repaid.  Unfortunately for the AEsir, he also believed that all slights had to be repaid just as evenly.

                The boy shrugged and smiled crookedly. “Mischief and love, it’s part of what makes you…you.  Even before all of this, you would have stepped into the sword aimed for either of them without thinking twice about it.” 

                Loki’s eyes grew cold as his mind focused on his mother. “What was the point in saving him when he was so useless he could not save her?”

                The teenager frowned thoughtfully, sadly. A reminder of her loss that made their hearts ache.  A gaping wound that still bled with every second of living.  “You do not blame him for her.”

                Loki wanted to. More than anything he wanted to blame Thor for their mother’s death.  But the teenager was right, he didn’t blame Thor for her loss.  There were so many other sins that he held the thunderer accountable for but Frigga’s death rested on his own shoulders.  His own and the rest of Asgard.  Loki refused to reply or even look at the illusion.

                The boy’s frown slowly softened, grasping for a truth that needed to be spoken. “Out of everything that has happened, that moment held no taint of Thanos.”  The moment on Svartalfheim he’d made a conscious decision to save Thor, no matter the outcome to himself.  He’d succeeded, and he’d paid the price for it.  And spent the last moments of his life gasping for air against the pain and apologizing like a fool.  But it was also true.  Those had been his actions, his decisions.

                Loki gestured dismissively and the illusion vanished.  It was time to officially rule Asgard.

* * *

                Sif sat down almost woodenly.  “He will kill us.”

                Fandral glanced up from the table, all of them choosing to meet at a small tavern after the coronation. It hadn’t been the extravagant affair that had been arranged for Thor’s aborted coronation, but then there hadn’t been much time.  Not to mention there was no king to physically pass the throne so the ceremony had been more formality than anything.  Surprisingly Loki had refused to choose Gungnir as his formal weapon of office.  He’d chosen no weapon, unheard of and yet it was his right to do so.

                He frowned at Sif and asked, “Who?”

                Instead of answering his question her lips twisted slightly in a grim sort of amusement. “Or order someone to do it for him.”  Grimness because with Loki it was entirely possible, amusement because the trickster preferred for others to do the dirty work for him.

                He blinked twice before asking hesitantly, “You mean Loki?”

                Volstagg was frowning at his sandwich, he taking a bite of the monstrous creation before talking and eating at the same time.  “You do not know this.”

                Sif grimaced and turned away from watching Volstagg, her eyes going back and forth between Fandral and Hogun.  “We are speaking of Loki.”  It was all she said, as if she needed no further explanation.  They all knew Loki was vindictive and unforgiving, particularly with someone that he felt wronged him.

                They had all been wary of trusting Loki for years, but Jötunheim had been the beginning of the end.  Now that the trickster was king, they were all on borrowed time.

                Hogun had been silent and thoughtful, thinking carefully.  After a few moments of worried silence from the others he nodded with finality.  “Then when he commands our presence we will proceed as warriors instead of hiding like children.”

                Sif looked more than a little offended.  “I wasn’t suggesting hiding, Hogun.”

                “Then what was your suggestion, Sif?”  Volstagg had stopped eating to ask.  To him, it had sounded like that had been her exact proposal.

                Sif almost managed to hide a grimace.  “Midgard.”

                They all heard retreat, even if she wasn’t actually saying the word. “An adventure is one matter…”  Volstagg trailed off, horrified to think of self-exile on Midgard.  Of never seeing his children again.

                A variety of expressions crossed their faces before she reluctantly continued, “Perhaps Thor--…”

                Hogun slammed his fist into the table to punctuate the word.  “No.”

                She ignored him and continued weakly, “…it is his birthright.”

                The grim warrior glared at her, reminding her of the thunderer’s crime.  “A birthright he abandoned, as he did the rest of us.”

                “You would prefer to follow Loki?”  Hogun chose not to respond to Sif’s question.

                Volstagg, always one to try to come to Thor’s defense, offered, “He must have a good reason, my friend.”

                Fandral grimaced, thinking of his father.  “Losing family is…difficult.”

                There were grimaces echoed by all of them.  But after a moment Sif shook her head.  “We’ve all lost.  It is a part of a warrior’s life.” 

                It was something that Hogun knew more than any of them. After the AEsir-Vanir war he had left Vanaheim forever, unable to remain after his entire clan had been slaughtered.  All he could see of the land he used to love was the blood staining the ground.

                “We now have irrefutable proof for him Loki is alive. Surely he would come back if we were to tell him.”  Sif silently fought against the bitterness that was festering as she spoke.  Bitterness that he had chosen a mortal over her.  That he preferred the company of humans instead of the comrades that had fought and bled at his side for centuries.  And a very, very tiny part of her heart wondered.  A poisonous little thought that she was quick to shove far away.  She wondered if this was how Loki felt, when she and the others came between him and Thor.

                Fandral countered her argument quietly, “He did just lose his father, even if he is yet to be told.”

                Volstagg, after several moments, frowned heavily.  “Surely Loki will send a missive to inform him.”

                Sif didn’t believe it for a moment.  But she could see the doubt reflected by the others.  “All the more reason for we to do it ourselves.”

                After another silence of contemplation but no action Volstagg tentatively offered.  “Thor has gained a brother…but lost a father.”

                It took effort but Sif stood with a nod.  “If we can convince him to return he will prove himself the better candidate for king.”  But the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

                Fandral took a drink of his ale while Hogun silently shook his head. But it was the blond adventurer who replied.  ”This discussion is pointless.  We will not even gain access to the bridge, much less the gate.  Loki will have our heads for even attempting.”

                Sif leaned down and lowered her voice. “We’ve done so before, for the benefit of Asgard, we can do so again.  Surely you can see that Thor would be better for Asgard.”

                Hogun slowly inhaled, speaking carefully.  ”It will not matter.”  Sif looked to object and he held up a halting hand.  “Thor abdicated.  Odin chose another.  Loki accepted.”

                Sif opened her mouth but Fandral was quick to interrupt her before she could start.  “There are those that will follow the throne, Sif, no matter who sits upon it.  Thor returning now will only cause an uproar that will have Asgardians fighting one another over who deserves the right to rule.”  The warrioress grimaced and sat back down.

                Volstagg nodded in agreement.  ”He is right, Sif.  Now only in an honor battle could Thor win legitimately over Loki.”  This time they all flinched.  Those battles were always gruesome and it didn’t take a stretch of the imagination to conclude who the victor would be and how the loser would die.  Threats aside, while none of them trusted Loki they didn’t wish him dead.  “We both know that Thor will not challenge him for he will not kill his brother.”

                Sif muttered sullenly to herself but her voice had no heat or bite.  ”Which is not to say that Loki would not attempt to kill Thor.”

                Fandral tilted his head slightly as he spoke, ”Considering he almost died for Thor I’m not certain I believe that.”  The warrioress opened her mouth, but then she closed it again without speaking.  A slightly puzzled look crossed her face a moment later.  The charismatic AEsir nodded slowly as he spoke what they were all thinking.  “Thor made his choice.  He did what was best for himself…instead of what was best for the rest of us.”  There were no objections.  No contradictions.  Just a grim resignation.  “Now we have to do the same.”

                Volstagg pushed back his sandwich as he stood.  The fact that he did so, considering his love for food, was shocking.  ”If you have need of me I will be with my family.”

* * *

                “The Hall of Kings, sire.”

                The servant bowed as the doors were opened for Loki but no one dared to enter.  The hall was precisely that, a guarded hallway that only opened for the reigning king.  All that was within was maintained with preservation spells, only the king privy to its secrets.  There were whispered suspicions of what lay within but no one but Odin and the kings before him knew with certainty.

                It was impractical for Asgard to be without a king so he’d had the official ceremony before Asgard today instead of waiting to organize a monumental event between the realms. The attending crowd had been a mixture of the commoners watching in hushed awe at the crowning of a king and the hushed dread from the upper class at the crowning of Loki.  It certainly hadn’t been the elaborate event that Thor’s coronation had been but Loki honestly didn’t have the time or patience when he had other things on his mind.

                In three more days Odin’s funeral was scheduled. He was making all the appropriate arrangements to pay the proper respect for a deceased king.  The dignitaries from the other realms had all accepted the invitations.  No doubt they would come to catch a glimpse of the trickster now on Asgard’s throne as much as to pay their respects.

                Loki ignored both sentries as he walked forward, his green cape fluttering majestically behind him. The torches lit as he walked, illuminating the walls on either side.  Maps were affixed to the wall, depicting infamous battles.  Scrolls of parchment with a list of the dead were kept in glass under each.  The Hall of the Dead carried formal stones of each battle and the names of those that fell chiseled into the surface.  These were more museum pieces than anything.  Halfway through the corridor, there was an arch to the right that opened into a room filled with books.

                Books of magic not in the library, just from the titles he could see.

                Histories penned in Odin’s hand.  Borr’s hand.  Others.

                In the center an opened book showed the lines of every AEsir family.  He thumbed through those pages, stopping to see his own.  Well, Thor’s line really considering he wasn’t Odin’s by blood.  Had the farce concerning his glorious rise as king been unnecessary he wouldn’t have claimed Odin as his father.

                Yet he could clearly see his name beneath Odin’s and Frigga’s.  He was surprised by that, in all honesty.  It was one matter to give a child a name.  Odinson.  But to add that child’s name to the family line meant so much more.  Unlike a title, it cannot be undone in a fit of temper.  From that technicality, unless he were to choose abdication the line of succession would go from Thor to himself no matter what Odin thought on the matter.

                Brushing against the runes that spelled out his name with his fingers, the line altered and formed a new pattern, Laufey and someone called Farbauti attached to him. His biological parents he gathered.  He followed that line all the way up to the top.  Ymir.

                By most Ymir was considered THE Jötunn.  The most powerful Jötunn to ever walk the nine realms.  The father of all frost giant according to legend.  It would be logical that the royalty of Jötunheim were directly descended from him.

                He removed his finger from the page and the writing reformed itself.

                His brow slowly furrowed as he traced along the line from Thor to Odin to Borr.  All was as he expected, except that the name of Odin’s mother was unfamiliar to him.  Bestla.  It did make sense in a way.  Borr had reigned without a queen, his heirs produced from a series of lovers.  Curiously his fingers brushed her name and names above her were produced, the line shifting to accommodate.  He looked up to the top, to the origin and froze.

                Ymir.

                The laughter started low at first but it quickly escalated until it was so loud and alarming that if anyone had heard it they might have fled in panic.  He wasn’t sure why he was laughing.  He really wanted to scream.

                Ymir was a frost giant which meant that so was Bestla.  Indeed a few generations ago Bestla shared a common ancestor to himself, even prior to Ymir.  But it was more than that.  Odin was half frost giant.  The great All-Father of Asgard was part of the very species he looked down upon.

                He laughed hard enough that tears started to gather and fall down his cheeks.  He convinced himself that it was the laughter that caused the tears and not something tearing at his heart. _Monsters_. _We are all monsters_.  Instead of finding comfort that Odin and therefore Thor were bred from the same type of monster as himself if only made it worse.

                The last centuries had made him angry and bitter but he could still remember such a long time ago when Odin would take he and Thor by the hand, imparting wisdom.  It wasn’t until it became obvious that he would never be the warrior that Thor was that those affections were withdrawn.  Yet for centuries he’d still childishly clung to the belief that one day he could earn back that love.

                But each time Thor or the others would dismiss his contribution as a trick.  Each time a victory was celebrated while in the same breath his sly tactics were admonished.  With each decade that passed with chastisement instead of praise those hopes were slowly crushed.  Dangling from the edge of a destroyed Bi-frost, Odin staring down at him with such dull disappointment, Loki had done more than just let go of the family that he’d clung to all those long years.  He let go of the hope that he would ever earn the love that he so craved.

                He’d let go to seek death…and found something much worse.

                A letter sealed in wax with Odin’s emblem appeared over the page.  Loki’s entire being froze for just an instant.  The laughter cut off sharply as Loki lifted and broke the seal, ignoring the dampness on his face, and carefully reading the contents.

 

                _My son,_

_The duty of every king is more than just the leading of one’s people. There are truths that are important.  Truths that must be protected.  There are also truths that should never be  uttered, that can never be known for the good of Asgard…_

 

                Loki rolled his eyes and skimmed forward.  Even with something as simple as a letter Odin liked to lecture.  His expression went blank when he came to the important part.

 

_Thor, what you have discovered concerning your lineage can never become common knowledge. Not just for the good of the realms but for your brother’s sake.  The truth that I am about to reveal can never be known to him.  I tell you this only if he were to one day learn the truth, as I fear he will._

_Loki was not born of Asgard_ …

 

                Well of course the truth should be hidden from Asgard.  With the current state of things, the citizens would rebel at the thought of a frost giant on the throne, quarter or otherwise.  The knowledge of Odin’s parentage would cast doubt over all of his actions.  All of his edicts would be questioned.  It could transmute to a hate that not even Thor could overcome.

                The pages blurred and a frustrated scowl crossed Loki’s face.  He rubbed at his eyes and blamed the nonexistent dust.  He skimmed through the rest just to be certain but it was just more of the same.  Reasons for why he should remain ignorant of the monster that he was.  That they all were.

                All except for his beautiful mother.

                The letter fluttered to the ground, unnoticed, as Loki flinched and leaned against a book shelf with a hand protectively covering his aching heart.  He’d said things that he wished he hadn’t.  Looking back now with the knowledge that she had died anyway he would have taken it all back.  Better that she died knowing that he loved her than to die thinking her son hated her for the truth of his birth being kept from him.

                He’d never hated her.  He could never hate her.  He’d been angry and wary of her but that wasn’t nearly the same thing.  While he starved for Odin’s affection, hers was always in abundant supply.  Hela may have encouraged him to continue learning magic but it was when he saw his mother performing simple charms that he’d thrown himself into his studies.  He learned tricks to make her laugh.  Illusions to cause a smile.  He lived for those moments and looking back he realized she’d always made time for him.  Thor was his father’s son but Loki had belonged to his mother.

                Loki shook his head once, his brow furrowed heavily and pushed himself firmly back onto his feet before he walked swiftly back out of the room.  If he had been searching for a reason not to follow through with his plans he was now even more determined.

                He paused before a very old battle.  The list of the dead was longer than any other war.  His green eyes flicked upward to study the realm.  Muspelheim.  Brow furrowing just a little, it occurred to him what war this was.  When Odin used the bulk of Asgard, Vanaheim and Alfheim in an attempt to destroy Surtur and was forced to imprison him instead.

                There was something else about this story that was teasing the edge of his memory.  Something…an odd way had been found to imprison Surtur.  A spell of some sort, forever powered by an unnamed source.

                Inspiration lit those green eyes as a satisfied smirk pulled at his lips.

* * *

                Loki pursed his lips before blowing softly, making certain the ink dried on the parchment so it wouldn’t smudge. He’d been debating this since Odin’s death.  It would be absolutely delicious to say nothing.  To send nothing.  To allow Thor to find out about his father when and if he decided to wander back to Asgard.  But having Thor return now to see who sat on the throne was too tempting an opportunity to pass up.

                Although perhaps a tiny part of him was hoping Thor wouldn’t come. Learning that his brother was still alive and hadn’t been informed was not going to make for a happy thunderer.

               “Sire.” The voice that spoke sounded decidedly pinched.

               He glanced up slowly, casually from his throne. He kept all expression from his face, relaxed against his seat of power.  “Ah, yes, Lady Sif.”  She stood a little to the front, the way that Thor had for their merry band.  Behind her were the remnants of men that at one time he’d fought with as their ally.  Perhaps for even the briefest of times they had been friends.  But that had been centuries ago.  “And your traditional shadows Warriors Fandral, Hogan, and Volstagg.”

               Sif was stiff enough that Loki wasn’t entirely certain someone hadn’t rammed a rod up her ass. Again.  The woman had absolutely no sense of humor, in his opinion.

               “You sent for us, sire.” Sif said the words through gritted teeth but nothing in her expression was punishable so he let the attitude lie without comment.

               “That I did.” Loki nodded slowly to himself.  Forgiveness wasn’t in his nature but revenge was.  Keeping his tone casual as if discussing the weather.  “I was wondering if I should execute the five of you now or wait until you defy my edicts a second time before requesting the executioner’s block.”

               The warriors all tensed, Sif included, but she was also frowning thoughtfully since there was only the four of them before the throne. “Five?”

               Loki clarified with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Heimdall, of course, since he seems to enjoy treason as much as the rest of you.”

               During a time when his motives were suspect but these idiots hadn’t known it for a fact, Odin fell into his sleep after delivering the crushing blow of just what species Loki truly was in his lap. Mother had given him control of the throne while Odin was indisposed.  Loki had his plans and he gave these four a simple order.  To leave a then exiled and mortal Thor on Midgard.  They couldn’t wait to run down to the Bi-frost and defy him and Heimdall was all too happy to comply with their request.

               All of them were so certain he was up to something. He was, of course he was, but not something that would harm Asgard.  Indeed had his plans succeeded it would have done the nine realms a lot of good in his opinion.

               Hogun was as grim as ever as he disputed a question concerning their honor. “We have pledged our loyalties--…”

               “To. Thor.”  Loki snapped the words with emphasis, impatient with the older man.  “Do not take me for a fool, Hogan.”  His tone turned casual again, almost disturbingly friendly.  “After all, I seem to recall a situation of but a few short years ago and the four of you couldn’t wait to scamper down to Midgard for your precious leader.”

               Glances were exchanged amongst them, Loki feeling generous enough to give them time to formulate a response. Privately he was surprised they hadn’t already gone running to Thor.  In truth he was bored and as irritating as they could all be, he was starved for a little interaction.  What Loki didn’t know was the discussion amongst them had already taken place concerning Thor’s recent abandonment of Asgard in favor of Midgard.

               But beyond that. Loki had been named king.  They’d been present to see and hear it for themselves.  There was no disputing it, certainly not now that the mantle had officially changed hands.

               Fandral took a step closer, bowing respectfully and voice formal. “What must we do to prove our loyalty, sire?”

               Loki tilted his head slightly to one side in consideration before locking eyes with Sif and smirking. Purring dangerously.  “Offer me your head.”

               She gaped and sputtered, shock not stopping her from asking, “W-what?”

               Lifting one eyebrow in amusement at her. “Unlike you I did not stutter.  Offer me your head, to do with as I wish.”  A vicious war was briefly fought in all of their eyes. 

               Loki gestured slightly to the right and from the corridor a male Asgardian dressed in black walked into the room. He carried in his hands the traditional sword for such an execution, the blade honed to such an edge as to make air bleed.  Bodies tensed in place, eyes moving from the executioner whose identity was always hidden, to the king that had demanded their lives. 

               It could just be a test.

               If Loki was angry enough it might not be.

               Sif knew Loki could take her head with or without her permission. They could fight, but they would be forced to kill soldiers and warriors that would never be disloyal to the throne, no matter who sat on it.  She stiffened her spine and tightened her jaw before stepping forward, a closed fist held to her heart as she bowed low enough that her neck was within easy access.  “As an oath of fealty, I offer my head to my sovereign, King Loki.”

               One by one, the warriors 3 followed suit. Not that Loki was surprised that they waited for her response, ever the faithful sheep.

               Loki silently smirked and waved his hand, the illusion disappearing. “I accept your oaths of fealty and for now you may keep your heads.  You may all rise.”  Which meant that he could collect from them whenever he wished lest they choose to lose their honor.  They rose with surprise on their faces, glancing quickly at the place where the illusion had been moments before.  As the cleverer of the quartet, Sif and Hogun realized it was an illusion before the other two.  “Oh, and since I am feeling generous a word of warning.”  Amusement dropped completely from Loki’s face for just a moment.  “Betray me again and I will ensure you join Hela in Helheim…if I am feeling generous.”

               Sif instantly started sputtering defensively, “A-again? It was you--…”

               Loki’s green eyes flashed dangerously. “Yes, Sif, do finish that sentence.”  Sif bit her bottom lip hard to keep from retorting.  The others were focused on Loki’s promise.  Eternity in Helheim or worse Niflheim was a fate that no AEsir warrior desired.  And unlike other times when Loki would issue a threat with a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes, this time there wasn’t one.  None of them doubted him.  They all shuddered. 

               Loki took a minute to let them absorb his words. Then he rubbed his hands together, smirk back in place and swiftly changing the subject.  “Now that that is out of the way, offer me your impressions of Asgard’s current state.”

               Fandral was the one who frowned and asked. “Sire?”

               The trickster noticed the blond AEsir used the title without hesitation. He would tuck that observation away for later pondering.  “Defense.  Offense.  Weaponry.  Might.  Damages.”  He ticked off each point with a finger until all five had been addressed, raising an eyebrow.  “I am to rule Asgard, I need to know the current state of my kingdom to rule it well.”  The grimaces were plain enough even Thor would have noticed.  Loki made an irritated noise and pushed himself off the throne, walking down the steps.  “Has no one been seeing to _anything_?”

                Sif was trying to keep her displeasure hidden since one did not openly criticize a king, dead or not. They all were.  In truth since Frigga’s fall, Odin had been a shell of a man.  Volstagg attempted a diplomatic answer but didn’t fair very well.  “I believe the builders were repairing the damage to the palace.”

                Loki scowled heavily, turning to mutter under his breath about self-important old fools. Juggling so many plans recently, he hadn’t had the time to address anything but what Odin might have implemented prior to his collapse.  He sighed and nodded to himself.  The next stage of his plans would take time to prepare and if the rest of the people were as disheartened as the ones in front of him it was a good place to focus his energy in the meantime.  He wanted the AEsir to run into battle determined for success, not resigned to defeat.

                An official air entered his tone that had all of them snapping to attention. “I will be needing to create a council I can trust.  You must decide if that will be yourselves or if I should look for other candidates.”  Such a laughable idea that he trusted them.  The complete opposite was true.  But he trusted himself to anticipate their predictable reactions.

                Sif frowned almost delicately. Wary.  “A council for what, L-sire?”  She almost let his name slip but caught herself.  This was the throne room, after all.  Familiarity from anyone other than family would not be acceptable.

                He slowly lifted a reminding eyebrow. “I need those five matters in detail.”  He made a dismissive gesture and started walking up the steps again, his back to them.  “Either you will find out those answers or I will find someone more ambitious than yourselves that will.”  All of them glanced at one another.

                “You speak of ambition, sire?” Volstagg’s tone was interested.  Not that the man had an ambitious bone in his body.  But he was also a man who liked to haggle, a trait that Loki had always respected.

                “Well, I would hardly expect my council to live outside of the palace. Rooms would be set aside for your pleasure.”  Loki lounged back, his expression blanking but the slightest of tugs at his lips indicated he was teasing.  “Perhaps an entire wing for a family big enough.”  Of all of them, Volstagg had an impressively large family of sons and daughters, both biological and adopted.

                “A place at the king’s table?” Volstagg leaned closer yet as he asked this and Loki didn’t even attempt to stop his lip from twitching in amusement this time.  If there was ever anything predictable in the universe, it was the man’s love for food.

                Loki waved a hand loosely. “I will not be hosting massive feasts like my predecessor but I am not opposed to a small gathering during meals.”

                He dismissed them to consider matters. Whether them or someone else, he would need a few minions to get Asgard battle ready.  Though he couldn’t explain why he was silently hoping they would accept his offer.

                After another indecisive moment he put the missive destined for Thor with the others. If Thor came then matters would be dealt with once he arrived.  If Thor did not then Loki would know where the thunderer’s loyalties truly lay.

* * *

 

  _ **Author's Notes:** _

_I know, I'm just the biggest tease in the world.  For those that have read this before here is where we take a bit of a detour.  (Promise not to change the overall integrity)_

_**Next:** _

_The current state of Asgard;  Odin is in for a surprise_


	4. Chapter 4

ASGARD

                Loki sat stretched out on the stone railing of a balcony overlooking Asgard with no expression on his face.  From here he could see quite easily the signs of destruction still marring the structures, which only served to remind him of the one who mattered most who was no longer here.  Which in turn only served to maintain his anger.

                Thoughts of her were always followed by thoughts of **him**.  The brother that wasn’t his brother.  He’d been disappointed when Thor hadn’t come to attend Odin’s funeral rites.  He hadn’t been foolish enough to actually sign the missive he’d sent with his own signature.  It was presented as just an official notice from the palace of what had occurred and when the rites would be held.  But in a way he was unsurprised of the thunderer’s absence.  Thor always had enjoyed all the privileges of ruling and tried his best to avoid the tedious aspects. 

                Yet another reason why he hadn’t wanted Thor to take the throne and had set to disrupt his coronation. He could well imagine those duties falling on his shoulders.  Thor would sit on the throne to look important.  He would host banquets and lead the warriors in battle.  But all the paperwork, the negotiations and legislation, those would become his responsibility as the second son.  Asgard would prosper because of his work but Thor would receive all the credit.

                But matters were different now.  He was king and Thor had taken himself out of the equation.  He supposed he could set aside his rage and rebuild Asgard until it’s glory outshone the Asgard of a thousand years ago…but he had no desire to live that long and even less desire to allow her death to go unpunished. 

                Which reminded him…

                He glanced up at the overcast skies. He had no influence over lightning and thunder.  That was Thor’s forte.  Still, he did have some influence over the elements of nature and he used it to thicken the air with moisture.  And with a mischievous spark in his eyes he focused on a target.

* * *

                In the streets of Asgard Sif looked up and glared hatefully at the sky.  Every time they stopped to gain updates with various people throughout the city the skies opened up to drench them in rainwater.  There weren’t small, black rain clouds individually following them but she was quite convinced this was all Loki’s fault.

                All four of them travelled together, rather than splitting up.  They were on their way to the blacksmith most frequently contracted by the palace.  Not the most legendary smith of Asgard as the battle gear produced by him weren’t magically imbibed, but the pieces were sound.  They didn’t even make it near the doorway before the wooden barrier was jerked open and a large man with dark blond hair, covered in soot, stepped out and aggressively covered the distance.  “I’ve told Tyr, now I’m telling you, I can’t pull a sword out of my arse.  I need metal.  So unless I have metal I’ve got nothing for him!”

                The only reason weapons weren’t drawn was because the man wasn’t holding anything in his hands. It also wasn’t the first unhappy citizen of the day they’d encountered.  Hogun nodded his head slightly to the man.  “We weren’t sent by General Tyr.”

                Sif pulled herself taller and asked roughly, “Who are you?”

                He stopped short, narrowing his blue eyes at her. “Regin Rodmarson, blacksmith.”

                “We are--…”

                He cut her off with a sound that was a cross between a huff and a growl before speaking, “I know who you are.”

                Unconsciously Sif felt her jaw tighten before she forced herself to say the words, “Our king has sent us to assess the state of Asgard.”

                Regin glanced at her, then looked to Fandral and asked, “He wants the state of Asgard?”  He didn’t veer his gaze, stating plainly, “We ain’t gonna need a return of the dark elves…a stiff wind will defeat us.”  Hogun’s jaw set grimly as the truth of the words settled.  “From bottom to top we’re all in dire straits.  We’ve been cut off from trading so I can’t get metal.  The same for the smiths that imbibed their armor.  The attack put a good many people in the care of healers, the majority of them the field workers.  I’ve heard since the farmers are shorthanded their crops are dying.  We’re commoners.  We can’t afford to be on our backs so our families are going hungry.” 

                Sif brow furrowed, offering an easy solution in her opinion. “Those families could enlist.”

                He turned a mild glare at her. “Not everyone has a family.”

                “They could marry.”

                He stiffened. He’d heard such things before.  All the warriors of Asgard thought alike so he wasn’t even surprised at her easy solution.  “And not every family is blessed with sons.  Nor does every son wish to fight.”

                “They need to learn to do their duty as I did.”

                “You’re the only girl to ever get that opportunity by our late Queen, may she smile down on us from Valhalla.” Then he held up his arm, showing the limb cut just past the elbow and fitted with a special attachment to aid him in his work. “I did enlist.  So did others.  Do you really think we’ll be taken back for another term missing an arm?  A leg?”  Sif glanced down, conceding his point without saying a word.  Regin’s blue eyes glanced toward the palace before growling, “He didn’t care if we starved, as long as he didn’t have to hear about it.”

                Fandral frowned, objecting, “That is why we’re here.”

                Regin made a decisive gesture with his good arm. “No.  You’re here because we finally have a king who gives a damn about us.  Before, I wasn’t talking about King Loki…I was talking about his father.”  All four of them blinked at him in stunned surprise.  “Yeah, I said it and I’m not afraid to keep saying it.  We had a king that cared more about gold and keeping up appearances than anything.  You think any of us were surprised when he banished Prince Thor?  When we heard he condemned King Loki to a lifetime in the dungeons?”  Sif started sputtering since that wasn’t something that had been announced.  “They made him look bad, or so he thinks.”  Regin turned to regard Volstagg who he knew was a man with many children.  “Would you ever do that to your sons?”

                Volstagg glanced down and spoke softly even if his first reaction was a fierce denial, “I cannot speak for a noble.”

                The blacksmith’s lips tilted upwards in knowing amusement.  “Nay.  You don’t wanna is what you mean.  There was a time when you could speak the truth without being punished for it.  But because it offends royal ears now we have to keep quiet.  Report me to his highness if you want.  You being here makes it obvious the kind of king he is.  I’ll take his brand of justice over Odin’s any day.”  He turned without a word and stormed back into his shop, the door slamming shut behind him.

                The warriors 4 stood silently for several minutes, just absorbing what had been said.  After a pregnant pause Volstagg cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Well…”

                Fandral didn’t glance around as he spoke, “We’ve all thought it, we just never said it.”

                “It is our duty to obey our king.  Such disrespect breeds disloyalty.”  Sif rattled off something she had heard for centuries by the other warriors.  But there wasn’t any heat or conviction in her tone.

                Volstagg took a step forward, his eyes wide in surprise.  “Look, lads.  Look.”  One by one their gazes moved to what the rotund man was indicating and it was their turn to be equally surprised.  The blacksmith was next to the town square where merchants set up shops.  There was a platform at the center, which could be used for special announcements or to lock someone in the stocks.  At minimum the shops were set up two rows deep if not more so.  But not on this day.  “It’s empty.  Have you ever seen it empty?”

                “Yes.”  They all turned towards the one who had spoken.  It was a young woman, dressed simply but finely as one of a hundred palace servants.  She was a typical AEsir, pretty with blue eyes and blond hair.  Perhaps it was because her beauty seemed so typical that made her almost ordinary and easily dismissed.  A light tan cloak was thrown over her shoulders, the small basket she carried hidden within the folds.

                Sif was frowning slightly.  “You’re-…”

                “Anya.  I’m one of the palace servants, Lady Sif.”  She nodded slightly towards the female warrior.

                “You’re Loki’s servant.”

                Anya raised an eyebrow slightly.  “His highness is king now.  We all are.”  Sif instantly frowned at the reminder, but it wasn’t the scowl that it would have been a few years ago.

                Fandral looked between the two women before throwing caution to the wind, asking, “You said the square has been empty before?”

                She nodded to the blond swordsman slowly.  “Aye.  The square will close when we mourn.”

                “You mourn Loki being named king?”  Sif frowned ever so slightly as she asked, but she wasn’t quite certain if she felt defensive at such disrespect or relieved that she wasn’t the only one juggling conflicting feelings.

                Anya instantly scoffed.  “Of course not.  But I know you do because he wasn’t your prince.”

                “Thor was next in line.”

                Sif blinked in surprise, both of them ignoring Hogun.  “Both of them were our princes.”

                Anya crossed her arms loosely over her chest.  If she had an opinion as to whether the two princes were given respect equally she kept it to herself. “Prince Thor is yours, because he is a warrior.  Because he fits the AEsir ideal so perfectly.  A brave, mighty warrior both fearless and undefeated in battle.”  She gestured loosely as if to encompass the remainder of Asgard that weren’t warriors.  “We’re commoners.  We all have our strengths as well as our weaknesses.  We don’t fit that ideal…which is why Prince Loki was ours.”  The warriors shared glanced while Sif just looked stunned.  Anya shrugged and continued her explanation, “Physically he is different than the ideal, as most of us are.  His choice of weapons are different.  He is a seidmadr of the highest order, which will appeal to anyone with a drop of seidr in their blood.  If it were possible for a highborn he would have been a scholar.  That will appeal to those that would prefer a brilliant, wise king instead of a mighty one.”  Now all of them were frozen in silence, listening and absorbing what none of them ever knew.  “He was the prince that inspired us to aspire to be more than we are.”

                Fandral frowned almost delicately, asking, “What does this have to do with the square being abandoned, fair maiden?”

                She pulled in a slow breath, a brief flicker of pain racing across her face before she explained, “When word reached us of his death after the Bi-Frost was destroyed, we mourned him and the square was emptied.  The same with the death of the late queen.  Right now there is fear running through the streets so most remain home until Asgard is strong once more.”

                A hard look crossed Sif’s face, obviously questioning the strength of Anya’s loyalty to Asgard.  “What if the All-Father had not named Loki?  Of the two brothers would you follow Loki over Thor?”

                Anya was not, by any stretch of the imagination, anything other than a commoner.  Her father was a soldier of Asgard without distinction and her mother was a seamstress.  She’d had the most basic of educations before gaining employment within the palace as a servant.  But she had been the personal servant to the God of Mischief for over a thousand years.  A servant who had paid attention.  It was that woman who replied, “I follow the will of my king.”  The words were said with sincerity.  And perhaps they were.  Yet the words didn’t actually answer the question.

                Or perhaps they did if one was attentive. After all, she didn’t specify that she would follow the will of Odin or the king of Asgard.  She tipped her head respectfully and walked away.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Odin walked silently through the palace of Helheim.  There were those of the nine realms that called Asgard the realm stagnant.  Now he was quite convinced they didn’t comprehend stagnation until they visited Helheim.

                It was a land of eternal twilight, with no sunrise and no sunset.  There was no weather.  No modification in temperature, though the inhabitants would hardly notice if there was.  Those that had been dead for too long were no longer aware.  Those that hadn’t wandered.

                He entered the throne room to see a dark haired woman conversing with Hela, her question to the Helheim queen blunt, “…why did you send for me?”

                “Perhaps I simply want to converse.”  Hela smiled almost sweetly when the dark haired woman scowled at that response.  “I would like to introduce you to someone.”  The woman turned as Hela indicated him.  She held similar features to Hela, but she was shorter and a little more solidly built.  He surmised she was either Vanir of Midgardian since an AEsir would have bowed to him.  She looked him over quickly with pale green eyes, no recognition on her face, before she turned and raised an inquiring dark eyebrow at the Queen of the Underworld who filled in the blanks.  “This is the former King of Asgard, Odin Borson.”

                The woman crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed.  “So I gathered by his armor and pomposity.”  Hela’s lips twitched in amusement.

                Odin grumbled in displeasure before asking, “Are you Vanir or mortal?”

                She didn’t even turn her head to look at him, her tone flat.  “I’m dead.  But even in life I didn’t exchange pleasantries with AEsir.  Do not expect me to start doing so now.”

                Hela leaned back casually, her voice darkly amused.  “I was visited by Odin’s second son recently.  It was a brief conversation before he returned to Asgard to assume the throne.”

                Clearly the other woman was unamused as she asked, “Is there a point to this discussion?”

                Lady Death ignored the other’s attitude.  “Loki is rather remarkable.  A gifted seidmadr.  A talented shapeshifter.  Truly a credit to your race.”

                Odin backed up a step in surprise.  “You are a Frost Giant!”

                She allowed her skin to flush blue, her eyes flashing red as she sneered at him.  “Hence my reason for not conversing with the narrow minded.”  She let her natural form fade.  It was a personal choice to inhabit this form as opposed to her true skin, though she couldn’t quite put it into words why she preferred it.  In life she had bowed to Laufey’s command of maintaining her Jotnar size and appearance but in death she was free to appear as she wished.  After a moment she frowned.  “Why would his second son--…”  Her question faded from her lips and light green eyes went wide as the reason behind the topic became painfully obvious.  But then those eyes narrowed as she turned back towards the stunned former king with a very familiar smile that was little more than bared teeth.  “Allow me to introduce myself.  I was known as Farbauti, consort to Laufey.  I bore him three sons, one of which you had apparently stolen.”

                Odin was shaking his head, beyond stunned.  “You cannot be here.”

                A sneer returned to Farbauti’s lips.  “You no doubt believe us to be little more than savages, all of us dishonorable curs destined for Niflheim.”

                “You believe Laufey to be worthy of Valhalla?”  He growled the question at her.

                Her retort was firm.  “Not in the slightest.”

                Hela tapped her lips thoughtfully before she asked Odin, “Would it please or horrify you to know that Bestla did not wash onto my shores?”  Which basically meant that Borr’s former consort had been found worthy of Valhalla.

                Odin’s eye went wide as he stared at Hela, his voice a pained whisper of disbelief, “Impossible.”

                Hela gave him a condescending look.  “What is impossible?  That a Jötunn is found more worthy of Valhalla than yourself?  Hardly.  There are primitive mortals, as you call them, more worthy than yourself.”

                Farbauti’s brow was furrowed, her eyes slightly distant as she tried to lock on to a name that was vaguely familiar.  “Who is Bestla, Lady Hela, the name rings of familiarity?”

                “Bestla was consort to Borr.  As he was Odin’s father, she was his mother.”

                Now it was Farbauti’s turn to stare with wide eyes before she started laughing.  Great, heaping laughs loud enough to set an edge to Odin’s teeth…mostly because he knew she was laughing at him.  Which was only confirmed when she turned to look at him with glee.  “The great king of Asgard is of the Jotnar…and now a trueborn Jötunn sits on the throne.  How delicious.”  His glower turned up another notch but she remained unaffected.  “And it explains so much.”  She looked him up and down.  She may never have conversed with him but Odin’s obvious contempt for her species was the stuff of legends.  Until them he had never left a defeated species so devastated.  Suddenly much was explained.  “I suppose you stole my son to prove to yourself of your AEsir superiority in comparison.”

                Odin tilted his chin up in pride.  “There is not a battle that bested Thor.  Nor a contest of strength he did not win.”

                Farbauti was the opposite of impressed, giving Odin a bored look.  “You attempt such contests upon our soil and see how your trueborn son fairs in comparison to mine.”

                Hela glanced between the two of them, seeing the rising tension that was most probably going to lead to violence.  “Children, desist.”

                He broke his gaze with Farbauti to ask, “Was not the point of our introduction to cause strife?”

                “Actually, no.  That was simply an added bonus.”  She smiled brightly at both of them even if she only received scowls.  Considering the similarity in the expression between the pair of them she was tempted to point that out but refrained.  She gestured outward in what felt like a subject change but it actually wasn’t.  “If you will observe there are more AEsir that are no longer aware of their surroundings than any other race.  And no, they would not be considered the oldest.  There are plenty of races here that have been extinct for thousands of years that are still aware.” 

                There was a vicious glint to her eyes and Farbauti warily backed up, murmuring quietly to herself, “So the rumors are true.” Odin just silently frowned.

                “I am queen and I have chosen that this shall be an eternity of peace. Those fools thought to instigate wars here against old enemies and grievances best fought amongst the living.  A few even thought to attempt to usurp my position as the reigning power.  They learned with finality that I will not allow it.”  Farbauti swallowed and several of the specters nearby fled through the walls.  Hela slowly narrowed her eyes, focusing her command to Odin, “Set aside your prejudice...”  She turned her glare to Farbauti.  “…your anger…”  Now she leaned back to encompass both of them in her gaze and shrugged.  “Or you will suffer the same.”

                Odin was still unsure as to what had actually occurred. “What did you do?”

                Hela glanced at her fingernails lazily, shrugging a single shoulder. “I won’t bore myself with the details…suffice to say that I destroyed their minds.”

                “Why would you bother with such an empty threat?” Farbauti took two big steps away from him and dropped to a deep curtsy to show her queen she didn’t doubt her capabilities.

                Hela didn’t move beyond her eyes flicking in his direction, her voice dangerously quiet as she asked, “Is it?”

                Odin looked almost patient as he provided an explanation for his logic. “You have already stated your desire to have possession of my skills on the battlefield.  It would be counterproductive to then destroy my mind.”

                “Perhaps, but for one small point.” She disappeared from her throne, appearing behind him and leaning forward to whisper in his ear.  “The logistics you needn’t know…but what I extract I consume.  Their knowledge, their experiences are not lost.”  He jerked around, unwilling to admit to the fear that he felt but tried desperately to hide.  “I would still have the knowledge from you that I desire.”  Her mouth formed a smile of biting pleasure at his reaction.  “And an empty vessel that I may manipulate as an agreeable puppet.”  She moved to lift Farbauti’s head gently by the chin until the Jötunn took the unspoken command and rose once more.  Hela flowed past both of them for her throne, calling over her shoulder, “Exist for my amusement, children.  I have little patience for annoyances.”

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_I personally like the thought of Odin as Hela's puppet (not quite a reversal of the war trophy that Loki to a certain extent was but close enough)._

_**Next:** _

_Everything is Loki's fault_


	5. Chapter 5

ASGARD

                Loki had been expecting many things after returning to this life.  He had been expecting to have to abide the whining and complaining from both the noble and warrior classes.  Neither had disappointed him.  He had anticipated the Advisory Council trying to lean on him to see things their way…they quickly learned he was neither amused nor indulgent to their pathetic attempts at manipulation.

                He was not expecting to look up from the paperwork that he was sorting on his desk in his formal study to see four figures covered in mud from head to toe enter. Sif was glaring at him as if it was entirely his fault.  Or perhaps the glare was from the fact that he immediately started cackling.  He may have been responsible for the heavy rain but not the mud.  It was, however, a delightful bonus.

                She jabbed a finger at him.  “You did this.”

                He let his amusement slowly fade, not even glancing at Sif as he asked, “Did I?”

                Her eyes narrowed and flashed in rage.  “You cursed the weather.”

                “I’m not the one titled the God of Thunder, be careful in your accusations, Sif.”  Not that he couldn’t have told her the truth but he just didn’t feel like it.  “Consider it idle curiosity but what happened?”

                Fandral was as still as a statue, not wanting to move and dislodge anything.  “A mud slide.”

                That caught Loki’s attention and he leaned back to watch them in amusement.  “How in the nine were you involved in a mudslide on cobblestone?”

                The blond swordsman’s brow furrowed slightly.  “The walkways don’t maintain stone throughout the city.”

                Volstagg sighed and a chunk from his beard fell to the floor where it splattered.  “It would be more accurate to say the road turned slippery and we couldn’t avoid a large puddle at the base.”

                Loki was fastidious by nature and fought not to cringe.  “I asked for you to gather details for the immediate area, not to travel to the neighboring providences.”

                Sif gestured wildly, sending mud in every direction in her wake.  Loki was quick to throw up a barrier in front of him.  “We were still within the capital.”

                Slowly Loki narrowed his eyes.  “You are creating needless work for the servants.”

                “You could…”  She searched for a word for a moment before settling.  “…poof it away.”

                “Whores perform tricks and I am not one.”  She didn’t even attempt to disguise her actions, rolling her eyes at him like a child.  Loki growled softly at her continued lack of respect.  “I do not care about your irritation.  I am not about to abide you and yours forgetting your manners and falling back on old habits.”  She huffed and glanced away, crossing her arms.  Loki turned his attention to the others and asked, “Where were you?”

                Hogun had remained silent all this time.  Now he crossed carefully to a large map on the wall and indicated an area of Asgard only a couple of miles from the palace.  “This general area, sire.”

                “Why in Hel…”  Loki spoke almost to himself, his finger of his right hand tapping his lip as he puzzled through the situation.  “Is there anything about this area that would logically coincide with this pavement choice?”

                Volstagg glanced down to hide his frown.  “It’s the outer circle of the capital, sire.”

                Loki looked at all of them.  “Clarify.”

                Fandral pulled his shoulders back slightly.  “The nobles and warriors of distinction are housed closest to the palace, the merchants further than that and most of the commoners live and work in the outer circle.”  He didn’t say anything for a heartbeat before asking softly, “You didn’t know?”

                “I was the second son.”  Loki refused to say anything further about it and Sif was just wise enough not to press further.  He was taught politics and diplomacy but the inner workings of the realm were lessons that were reserved for Thor, taught to him by Odin.  Loki wasn’t worthy of such attention.

                But an ugly picture was developing in Loki’s mind.  It stemmed back to a problem that had been brewing for centuries, if not longer.  The warriors were granted a higher status, and to a certain extent he could understand that.  Their sacrifice should be rewarded.  But this denial of even basic utilities like a safe road to travel on for those that weren’t warriors didn’t sit well with him. 

                Suddenly he needed to move, rising from his desk.  He turned away from them to slowly pace, asking to gain their opinions, “What would you say is the first priority?”

                “For it to stop raining…”

                The trickster froze for a moment to glare at her out of the corner of his eye.  “Sif, I am about to waste two hours of my day locating a spell to conjure you your own little black rain cloud to follow you around.  Offer something useful or go away and pout.”

                Fandral offered a suggestion to hopefully restore the peace.  “Opening commerce.  Most of the businesses suffer from an inability to get raw materials.”

                Loki nodded thoughtfully.  “Easy enough to arrange.”

                “The buildings away from the palace are in desperate need of repair.”

                Which was something that he knew just from looking out the balconies.  He crossed back to the desk and moved a few things, searching for the most updated accounts.  “Hmm…how in Hel can there be nothing?”  His glare turned from the parchment to the walls, thinking if all the gold inlaid within a couple of the rooms were to be stripped it would easily solve Asgard’s monetary issues.

                Sif’s eyes widened in alarm and immediately jumped to the wrong conclusion.  “Sire, the people can’t survive a tax--…”

                In spite of popular opinion he wasn’t a largely material person. He had grown comfortable with the privilege afforded to him but he could care less about frivolous things that didn’t have to do with magic or books.  “Don’t concern yourself with it.”  Turning his attention to the others.  “I need to know how many buildings, the damages, and the costs.”

                “It might be more useful if we were to recruit some assistance.”

                Loki made a slightly dismissive gesture at Fandral.  “Not until we have firmer details.  I will make use of your skills for now.”

                “You cannot raise the taxes!”

                He let the parchment flutter to the desk and crossed his arms as he stared at her.  She was about to step on his last nerve and he put serious warning in his voice.  “You are not on the Advisory Council, Lady Sif.  I do not require your input in this area.”

                “Thor wouldn’t--…”

                “GUARDS.”  Loki all but roared the word, causing everyone to jump back from him.  The double doors were flung open, two soldiers appearing with weapons drawn.  Their eyes assessed that there were no assassins in the room, looking to their king for guidance.  Loki’s upper lip was pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl.  “Throw her in the cells, I don’t care which one.”  They didn’t hesitate and after a moment of stiffening Sif allowed herself to be escorted out.  Loki turned his glare to the others.  “Anything to add?”  If there was anything anyone wanted to say they didn’t mention it.  “Good, then you know what I require.  You’re dismissed.”

* * *

                Loki couldn’t remember her name.  Tia something or other.  It didn’t really matter, anyway.  She was one of the courtiers and currently she was before the throne, whining about…something.  One of the reasons he wasn’t paying attention to her petition was because he knew she was lying to him.

                The other had to do with whatever was going on beyond the double door entrance to the throne room.  It wasn’t uncommon to hear very gentle murmurs of waiting petitioners, the thick wood excellent for muffling sound.  Yet this was louder.  Not quite shouting but it did hint to irritation, even distress from several parties.

                Deciding to put him to the test, Loki glanced over and caught Fandral’s eye.  The blond warrior surprised him, inclining his head slightly before moving away from the throne for a side corridor the servants used to travel from one end of the palace to the other without being seen.

                Fandral wasn’t certain what he would find when he approached the opposite side of the double doors after taking the less public path.  He wasn’t expecting to see four sentries using their weapons to force back over a dozen people.

                Tightening his jaw, a hand on the hilt of his own weapon, Fandral walked forward with confidence and asked, “What has happened?”

                “These commoners will not disperse.”

                The largest commoner looked to him, dipping his head slightly in a respectful greeting common between soldiers.  “Warrior Fandral…the king’s decree allows for anyone to approach the throne, does it not?”

                “Aye.”  Fandral nodded and looked back at the sentries, asking incredulously, “You would disobey your king?”

                Three of them looked uncertain but not the most forward of the quartet.  “He is not my king.”

                Fandral recognized him by his family even if he didn’t know the man personally.  One of the many sons of Ing.  A family of great influence, which would explain why the other three were bowing to his will.  A family who fanatically followed Odin and had been eagerly anticipating Thor’s ascension.  “You speak treason.”

                Ingson stood stiffly but stated his opinion boldly.  “He would not even be king were there any other choices present at the time.  I would rather follow Lady Sif than he.”

                Fandral slowly shook his head, speaking almost to himself.  “You would dare utter such things with such impunity.”

                Ingson made a scoffing noise.  “What can he do?  Why would I need to fear a trickster?”

                “Indeed.  Why would you?”  They all turned in the direction the voice came from but saw no one standing there.  Then Loki appeared, looking the four over silently for a moment before baring his teeth.  “I couldn’t help but overhear.”  Loki looked at the other three, asking softly, “Do the rest of you believe the same?”

                Ingson didn’t wait for them to stutter out replies.  “Stand fast.  If we are imprisoned, General Tyr will release us.”  After a moment the other three obeyed, their willingness to ignore a direct question all the answer that was needed.

                Fandral felt his eyes widen.  Loki just slowly crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his bicep lightly with one finger, a contemplative expression crossing his face.  One of the commoners, a large man who held the bulk and faded scars of someone from the infantry in his youth, tensed to lunge.  But he didn’t when Loki held up that tapping finger, belaying his reaction without saying a word.  After another moment Loki glanced at this man who had illustrated a desire to come to his defense.  “How useful would a horse be to you?”

                The older man looked surprised, but he recovered quickly and replied honestly, “With respect, sire, we did not come here for one of your prized stallions.”

                “I understand and your petition will be heard.  The question was outside of that.”

                After a moment of pause the commoner answered neutrally, “A man can always use a good horse.”

                Loki glanced over at the other three male commoners who also gave affirmative answers.  “So be it.”  The sentries glanced nervously at one another as a trickster grin spread across his face and his eyes flashed a dangerous emerald green.  “There are many established punishments for disobedience.  You have disobeyed a command from your king…there is no higher crime and I could demand your heads if I chose.”  Ingson just his chin out defiantly, his jaw ticking but choosing to remain silent.  The rage that had been inspired by her loss filled Loki’s eyes.  A rage that had continued to fester all this time.  A rage that threatened his sanity and goaded him to continue this destructive path.  He now focused that rage on a target.  “But I will not.  Since you will not be useful to me, you will be useful to them.” 

                Loki forced open the doors with an agitated wave of his hand a few minutes later.  The interior guards were staring in surprise at the scene their king was walking away from.  Apparently a group of commoners had come to petition before the throne and had brought four horses with them. 

                Once word spread of who those horses had been every guard took their duties and the consequences of failure of those duties more seriously.

                Tia sputtered as the double of Loki who had been sitting on the throne, the double she had been talking to, faded. He walked past her, pausing to look at her coldly.  “I have heard enough.  It is neither my interest nor my responsibility to cater to your whims of larger, grander accommodations.  Find a new lover with a more privileged suite to your liking or be content with what you have been given.”  He continued walking up the steps, talking to her over his shoulder.  “Now get out.  I have more important people with actual problems to hear.”

* * *

                Sif looked up from the cot she sat on when the Warriors 3 approached her cell.  It was, in fact, the same lit cell that Loki had occupied once upon a time.  Only it had been cleaned of everything save for a simple cot for her to sleep on.  Fandral was the one who spoke first with a shake of his head.  “That was not your most brilliant moment, Sif.”  They all knew comparing Loki to Thor was a guaranteed way to cause the trickster to lose his temper.

                She crossed her arms and ignored him.  “Has the culprit for the missing gold been found?”

                The blond warrior shook his head ever so slightly, answering her question with the true cause for the empty gold vault.  “The repairs to the palace started by Lord Odin bled out the reserves.”

                Sif closed her eyes for a moment with a pained expression before asking with resignation and anger, “How much is he going to bleed from the citizens?”

                He ignored her question.  “He posted in the square.  The palace doors have been opened to any petitioner to come forward with a need.” 

                She blinked at him in surprise, asking without thinking, “Anyone?”

                “Anyone.” Now Fandral answered her previous question.  “He’s…he’s paying for it himself.  And we both know that’s not something Thor would have done.”

                “Thor isn’t greedy.”

                Fandral reminded her with a simple statement, “But he would take the advice of the Advisory Council and the nobles.”  People who were far more interested in lining their own pockets than worrying about citizens who would always be poor.  It wouldn’t have occurred to him to use what was inherited from his father.

                Sif huffed and glanced down, her brow furrowed as conflicting emotions once more tried to surface.  Loki wasn’t acting or reacting the way she believed he would.  The boy who had chopped off her hair and turned it black she saw as a petty, cruel, spoiled brat.  Over the years she hadn’t seen any improvement in his disposition.  His actions of late stemmed from a nature that vastly contrasted her impressions of that child.  “When am I to be released?”

                Fandral crossed his arms and refused to look at her.  “He hasn’t said.”

                “He’s going to leave me to rot.”

                A slight frown crossed the blond warrior’s face as he asked, “Would you have spoken in such a manner to the All-Father?”

                Sif sniffed lightly, dismissive.  “He’s not Lord Odin.  He’s Loki.”

                “He’s our King.”  Fandral was near to snarling before he stormed away.

                She blinked after him in surprise.  She’d never seen such a reaction from Fandral and asked after he was out of sight, “What in Hel is wrong with him?”

                The two men glanced at one another but it was Volstagg that responded, “Loki announced his decree to entertain the need of commoners and posted in the square his decision to allow any to come before him.  Several of the guards disobeyed and barred the citizens from entering.”

                Not that Sif was surprised.  Nobles and elected officials came before the throne.  Commoners spoke to those people to represent their interests, usually with a small bribe.  Loki allowing anyone before the throne was an act that had no past precedent and those nobles would no doubt be displeased with the loss of that side income.  “Your point?”

                It was Volstagg’s turn to look surprised.  “Would any of the men dared to defy Thor’s orders?  Ever?  Loki is king yet he is openly defied.”

                Sif quietly mulled that over before nodding reluctant in agreement.  She glanced at the other cells around her, all of them empty.  “I’m surprised they didn’t join me.”

                “He was furious.  He cursed them into beasts of burden in front of their replacements.”

                She thought to blurt out her disbelief but forced the words back.  But it left her wondering just how powerful Loki truly was if he was capable of reducing men to beasts.  “No doubt that will stifle their rebellion.”

                “If mere guards will pick and choose what orders they will obey how will the warriors respond?”  Hogun spoke with quiet grimness but it sobered both Sif and Volstagg.  “You know how opportunistic some of the realms are.  If an assassin comes that hesitation could kill him.”

                Volstagg nodded in Fandral’s direction.  “Fandral takes the duty of guarding his king seriously.”

                Hogun stood a little straighter.  “We have all chosen to be on hand in case there is need of us.”

                Sif nodded after a pregnant pause, struggling to think of something to say before settling, “Thor would have wanted it.”

                Volstagg frowned a bit as he seemed to debate something.  In the end he chose to say nothing and followed the path Fandral took.  Hogun stayed a bit longer, his face set in the grim expression that she was used to seeing.  But there was something in his dark eyes that spoke of a decision that had been made, his tone full of conviction.  “I do not know why Loki arranged for our presence in the throne room the day King Odin died, but I am certain it was him.  But whatever he had been planning no longer matters.  We are not merely waiting in the presence of a younger brother for Thor’s return.  Even if Thor returns, who our liege is will not change.”  He took a step closer to her cell.  “Your words and your actions dishonor yourself, Sif.  You swore your loyalty.”

                Sif stiffened, feeling defensive. “I do what he says.  I may not be pleased but I follow his commands.”

                Hogun glared at her, stifled passion filling his voice as it rarely did. “Loyalty is not merely a hollow act.  It is a word.  It is a gesture.  A belief and a conviction.  You follow him as shallowly as the rest.  You shame yourself.”  Sif jerked back as if slapped.  Hogun ignored her, solemnly staring her down before walking away.  “I do not guard him for Thor.  I do so for Asgard.”

* * *

                The Warriors 3 hadn’t returned, giving her time to herself.  Time to do little more than think and pace.  She was not one to fear enclosed spaces but she felt boxed in.  Caged.  “These cells are so small…”

                Loki spoke from behind her as he appeared, stretched out on her cot.  “Hmm…after two days you say such.  Imagine spending almost a year here.”

                Sif whipped around, a sharp retort on her tongue but she swallowed it a second later.  The only thing she could think was that he was completely unaware of how tired he looked.  His skin was paler than normal and there were dark circles forming under his eyes.  The question she voiced was quiet and without heat, “What do you want, trickster?”

                His lips twitched in amusement, as if embracing the familiarity of her agitation and disrespect.  “Still no manners…or no self-preservation.  At the moment it’s unclear the cause.”

                She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him.  “I will not beg for forgiveness.”

                Loki slowly shook his head.  “No, of course not.  You actually giving me the minimum of respect my rank deserves would be far too reasonable a response.”

                “How did you enter here?”

                “Magic.”  She made a sound of disbelief and he just shrugged it off.  “Scoff as you wish but considering some of my skills it’s not nearly as difficult for me as it would be for most.”  Her eyes widened as she watched him stick his hand through the solid wall.

                “How?”

                He retrieved his hand and glanced at her, almost looking down his nose at her.  “AEsir are narrowed minded creatures who think in three dimensions.  Neither this wall nor the ground or ceiling are contained by this ward.”

                Sif felt her eyes widen.  This was the exact same cell he’d been condemned to after his defeat on Midgard.  He’d spent months down here, in a cage that obviously can’t contain him.  “Then you could have escaped at the moment of your choosing.”

                He tilted his head a little, looking amused.  “It would defeat the purpose of being caught if I did that.”

                “You--…”  Her eyes widened as she cut herself off.

                Loki continued speaking as if oblivious to her reaction.  “Not to mention I do still have the Casket of Ancient Winters in my possession.  So yes, I could have freed myself at the moment of my choosing.”

                “Then why would you not act against the Dark Elves??”

                He sat up after a considering moment and asked, “Why would I?  You, all of you, proved the extent of your loyalty where I am concerned.”  Her face contorted but he didn’t give her time to comment.  “In times of crisis prisoners may be freed to earn back their honor yet no one thought to do so with me.  Why?  Because no AEsir believes I understand the concept of honor.  You all believe that I would simply disappear at the earliest convenience and gleefully leave you to your fate.”

                “Would you not?”

                Loki actually wasn’t certain how he would have reacted at the time.  He had still been furious with Odin and the lie that his life had been.  But he wouldn’t have wanted Frigga or Thor killed, in spite of that anger.  He probably would have stayed to ensure their success.  It was the after that was truly unknown.  “The past is precisely that so what might have been matters not.”

                Sif sighed softly.  “How long will I remain here?”

                “That depends on you.  As thrilling as some of our discussions have been I no longer have a tolerance for your attitude.  You’ve become a bitch, a shrill harpy, and I tire of it.”

                It took effort for her not to sharply retort.  Instead she buried it and asked slowly, “You expect me to offer you words of remorse?”

                “No.  Because that would be an intelligent course of action.  I expect you to stubbornly cling to your pride and wallow in the dungeon, spouting rants and insults of the injustice that has occurred that your precious Thor would never subject you to.”  Loki pushed himself to his feet.  “You and your little friends and the rest of Asgard have made it quite clear over the years that I am not Thor.  Nor Odin.  That I can never aspire to be even a fraction as great.  So be it.”  He stepped towards her, a growl entering his voice.  “I refuse to continue to reshape myself into a warrior, a prince, or a king that you and small-minded fools like you will accept.  If I have to fill the rest of these cells with the warriors who will no doubt be just as disrespectful as yourself if not worse then I shall.”  He glanced around at the cell that would be her home for the time being.  “You will remain here until you choose to respond.  Either you will learn to curb your tongue or you will choose to leave my company.”

                “You would…strip me of my status…?”

                His eyes moved slowly up and down her body as he stepped closer, invading her personal space.  “Tempting and I am certainly enjoying the visual but that is not entirely what I meant.  If you say nothing you remain here.  If you choose to apologize and maintain your vow then you may return to work.  If you choose to leave it will be a physical departure from Asgard and I will kick your ass down to Midgard personally.”  She opened her mouth and he was quick to warn her, “Do not choose that possibility with haste, Lady Sif.  If I banish you to Midgard there will be no retracting it for I will never return your immortality.”  Her eyes widened as she took a step back from him and her mouth closed with a click.  “If you go to Earth, even if Thor returns to Asgard with you in tow you die a human.”  Sif couldn’t think of anything to say.  She only knew with certainty that he was serious.  Loki turned to look out.  “Guard.”

                Like all the palace staff recently, the guard was quick to make an appearance.  “Sire?”

                Loki stood just a little taller, glancing back at Sif even though he wasn’t talking to her.  “Lady Sif may wish to respond at a time of her choosing.  Until then give her something to entertain her and listen for her decision.”

                “Should--…”  The guard had been about to offer lowering barrier.  He trailed off to stunned silence as he watched his king melt through the floor of the cell and reappear next to him.  Sif’s eyes were just as wide.

                Loki ignored them both.  He had plans to implement and a minion to hire.  He was looking forward to an end to this life.  “Think carefully, and make a decision you can live with.”

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_So sorry for the lack of updates.  Life has been...heavy.  But there's finally a light at the end of the tunnel._

_I was also struggling with this chapter._

**_Next:_ **

_A slightly better attitude;  the dead are voyeurs (eewwww)_


	6. Chapter 6

ASGARD

                Sif slipped into her spot along the table with an ease that spoke of familiarity.  The servants were quick to appear with plates of food, she and the others waiting.  Six months now they had been taking meals with the king of Asgard.  This all still felt surreal but she’d learned to curb her tongue.  It would be more accurate to say that she learned to just keep her mouth shut.  Surprisingly as the months had passed her urge to constantly question Loki’s every order and decision had faded.  She refused to inflate his ego any bigger than it already was by admitting it out loud but on rare occasions she even found him a brilliant king.

                She felt a twinge as she sometimes did of the reminder. Six months ago had been Odin’s funeral rites, yet Thor still hadn’t returned.  She supposed it was possible Loki hadn’t informed him.  But she’d seen the disappointment that had flickered across his face before he’d hidden it during those rites.

                Firmly she pushed thoughts of Thor to the side and sipped from her glass. Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg occupied the other spaces, all of them waiting for their king to arrive.  Sometimes details over their tasks were discussed during meals but other times it was a casual gathering.  Loki appeared with a slightly preoccupied look on his face, sitting at the head of the table at his own place setting.

                “Something troubles you, sire?”  Sif frowned delicately as she asked.

                She still hadn’t quite grown accustomed to calling Loki ‘sire’ but she supposed it was just a familiarity that would grow with time.  He certainly hadn’t acted the way she had dreaded he would.  She had expected he would commit some unforgivable act that would bring Asgard to ruin while he stood to the side and laughed but the exact opposite was true.  All the decrees she knew of were done to Asgard’s benefit.

                His personal gold vaults inherited from his father had been opened, he financing the repairs to Asgard.  But it had been more than that.  Training.  Recruiting.  He’d hired spell casters from Vanaheim to reinforce the walls surrounding the city and the dwarves to forge weaponry and armor.  Commerce had been restored.  This was not only an Asgard restored, it was mightier than anyone could remember in recent memory.

                At first she and the warriors 3 were certain they were a council in name only.  Just an excuse to keep them all together so the trickster could more easily keep an eye on them.  But Loki actually listened.  He didn’t always follow their advice, but he didn’t dismiss their input automatically.

                His green eyes flicked in her direction, expression blank as he answered her question, “A trifle of a matter.”

                Sif let it lie for now and concentrated on her meal.  She knew he thought he hid it well but there was a war going on behind his eyes.  She wasn’t sure where it stemmed from but it set her warrior instincts on edge.

                Loki glanced down and stabbed a tomato with a fork, a satisfied smirk curling his lip as it bled for him.  Sif was more observant than he gave her credit for and he hastily forced the look off his face.  He’d just this afternoon sent his little hired minion to Muspelheim.  Now it was just a matter of time before the war would begin.  Yet he found himself hesitating before giving the order.  He’d done it, of course, but the hesitation was still there.

                Something about the conversation still lingered in his mind.  His minion had wanted to sell the power source that kept Surtur caged and Loki had given his blessing. _What did it matter_?  But he was having second thoughts about that decision.

                Fandral searched his mind for a way to lighten the mood that had settled around Loki.  Putting concern in his tone, asking almost without thinking. “Talks with Vanaheim were to your satisfaction, sire?”

                Slowly Loki lifted an eyebrow as he replied, effectively distracted. “There is no war pending if that is your concern, Fandral.”  The men all sent the adventurer knowing looks while Sif rolled her eyes in disgust.

                Fandral was well known for visiting Vanaheim for the companionship.  “That was not my intent behind the question!”  Loki just looked at him and slowly a dashing smile chased across Fandral’s face as he corrected himself.  “Not my only intent.”

                Loki purred his words softly.  “Of course not.”  But an unconscious smirk was teasing the corners of his lips and Fandral considered himself the victor.

                Volstagg sighed mightily, looking around him with regret on his face. “I will miss this…”

                Fandral frowned as he asked, “What will you miss, Volstagg?”

                The rotund man gestured with the turkey drum in his hand at his dining companions. “Eating so companionably, the five of us.”

                “Why would you miss that?”  Loki asked the question quietly but there was something else in his voice.  Something subtle and deadly.

                Volstagg continued on, oblivious to the tension that was now vibrating through Hogun.  “Our work is completed, Asgard restored.”

                Technically Asgard had been fully restored days ago, but Loki continued to point out matters that needed their personal attention.  “I was not aware that I ordered a disbanding of your council.”  His purr was lethal this time, eyes glowing green as he continued.  “But do not feel beholden to keep my company.”

                Volstagg opened his mouth to reply, shock on his face a second before Sif threw a biscuit and hit his nose.  It wasn’t what he meant.  He honestly enjoyed these meals the five of them shared.

                Sif threw Volstagg a scowl to go with the biscuit before turning her attention to Loki and explaining for herself, if not for the rest of them. “What was meant to be said, sire, was that we wish to continue this council in whatever new direction you see fit.”

                Pity he couldn’t stand. Loki had far too much pride to abide it.  If he suspected even for one second any of them were aware of just how vicious a companion loneliness was right now he wouldn’t hesitate in banishing them.  Loki weighed in her sincerity before feeling a spot along his spine lose tension.  A spot he hadn’t even realized had been tense.  He nodded slowly, returning to his venison.  “I will consider what projects would suit your talents.”

                Sif sent Volstagg one last glare and returned to her own meal. In truth, though she doubted she would ever admit it out loud, she had come to enjoy Loki’s company.  She was now exposed to a Loki who wasn’t competing with his brother.  A Loki who took their input into consideration, even if he didn’t always act on it.

                “You think so loudly, Lady Sif.”

                She glanced at the trickster suspiciously who just smirked in reply. She was aware of his ability to skim surface thoughts from those around him.  He was also aware of her awareness.  After a moment of consideration she decided to warily extend a hand of trust.  “Our recent efforts to safeguard the realm has provided inspiration, sire.”

                Loki toyed with his wineglass as he watched her, asking casually, “Inspiration?”

                Sif took the invitation to continue, speaking carefully. “We have increased Asgard’s might but perhaps we are not embracing the full potential of her citizens.”

                Loki mentally scoffed. Not at what she was saying, but what she wasn’t.  “Bluntness is your strength, Lady.  Of anyone in this palace, I expect you to have the balls that your companions do not.”  Even during the centuries that they hadn’t gotten along, her blunt honesty he found refreshing.  Unfortunately she had yet to master herself enough to understand when she crossed over to bitchy.

                The men all stiffened at the insult and a passionate fire lit Sif’s eyes as she spoke boldly. “Women have as much right to learn the sword and shield as men.”

                A range of scoffing noises filled the dining hall, Loki ignoring them to continue watching Sif. They both knew the other three reacted from a deeply ingrained behavior passed on for generations.  Daughters were taught household skills.  They learned to knit and cook.  Those gifted with magic were taught shielding spells to keep their children safe.  Women were wives.  Truly exceptional spell casters were healers.

                It was why Loki had been mocked as much as he had. He didn’t fit the mold of an AEsir male.  He didn’t have the strength to be the warrior he should be.  He was an exceptional spell caster, but men weren’t healers.  He had a foot in each door, but welcomed by neither.

                Fandral’s mustache twitched as he spoke, “Name one woman who could defeat me with a longsword.”

                Loki and Sif answered in unison, not looking at Fandral. “Sif.”

                At the time Loki had appointed them, he had done so with the intention of making them a council in name only. He gave them tasks because it kept them out of his hair.  He’d indulged their ideas but found himself surprised that sometimes their advice was sound.  Loki had known them for centuries, yet he felt like for the first time he was starting to understand them.

                Loki put down his wine and signaled for the next course. “I gather you have discovered those interested.”

                Sif moved her arms back so the servants could take the empty plates and switch them for desert. It’s not that she was concerned about reprisals, but she’d rather not be specific until she had a better feel for how well Loki was receiving this.  “Perhaps.  But one of Tyr’s requirements is for the head of the household to give his blessing.”

                A blessing that would never be granted. Sif’s father had been an exceptional man who saw his daughter’s potential beyond her being someone’s wife.  The quickest of scowls crossed Loki’s face before it vanished with the mention of the general’s name.

                Loki took another moment for the servants to complete their tasks and step back before nodding his permission. “Gather details on the numbers involved and your personal assessment of their potential and I will entertain your proposal.”

                A thousand years of never believing a word that came out of his lying mouth. She’d never trusted the prince he had been further than a mortal could throw him (mortals couldn’t).  But with surprise she found she did trust the king he had become.  Sif allowed a satisfied grin to curl her lips as she tipped her head down slightly to him.

* * *

                Loki’s gait was slow and casual, walking the Bi-frost to the observatory where Heimdall stood and looked over the nine realms with his golden eyes.  It had been tempting to leave the gatekeeper to rot in the dungeons, but after sitting on the throne for a week Loki had decided the other man was more useful at his post.  He’d expressed himself clearly and evenly as he’d released the AEsir.  If Heimdall was even suspected of further treachery Loki would have his tongue silenced, blind him, and then cast him out of Asgard, uncaring of where he landed.

                Heimdall could see anything and everything, if legend was to be believed. But Loki didn’t make the mistake that everyone else did.  Heimdall could see what he chose to see, but it didn’t mean he understood.

                “Heimdall.”

                Heimdall didn’t turn but knew better than to not acknowledge the recognized king of Asgard. “Sire.”

                Loki couldn’t stop his chest puffing up at such a gesture of respect aimed at him, coming from the man before him.  “My, my…how it must burn to let that word pass your lips.”

                Heimdall didn’t react, but then Loki hadn’t expected that he would.  Loki prided himself in being able to understand people, whether they be AEsir, Vanir, or mortal.  Heimdall had puzzled him at times.  A man who didn’t fit a typical AEsir mold.  Loki was almost disappointed that they both disliked the other.

                Loki leaned against the golden inside of the observatory, his body language casual as his green eyes lazily flicked over Heimdall’s stoic form. “I can say with utmost sincerity I was surprised you did not act to retrieve Thor yourself.”

                Heimdall knew better than to ignore Loki a second time.  “The prince denied the throne.”

                A ghost of a smirk tugged at Loki’s lips, his tone pleased, “And you were watching, no doubt.”

                “I was.”  A flicker of familiar distrust crossed the gatekeeper’s face.  Even from the cells his golden eyes allowed him to see.  His tone could have been described as chiding, “I watched a falsehood take the throne but your words allowed for his choice.”  The distrust smoothed, surprise now in those golden eyes as he looked at Loki.  “Your actions of late honor your father.”

                Loki refused to allow what he was feeling to show on his face.  He refused to acknowledge, even to himself, how much hearing words like that meant.  All that was missing was Thor standing there and nodding in agreement.  But Thor wasn’t there because his brother hadn’t come home.  Instead Loki turned and muttered to himself.  “And I thought I had a loose viewpoint concerning honor.”

                “You find fault in my actions?”  Heimdall’s face remained impassive as he asked.

                Loki bared his teeth in what might have been described as a grin as he replied. “Far be it from me to protest actions that worked to my benefit.”

                Heimdall slowly shook his head, golden eyes returning to watching the realms. “It was for the benefit of Asgard that I stilled my tongue.” 

                Loki mentally rolled his eyes but he didn’t respond to the opening. In truth he found himself questioning Heimdall’s sense of honor.  A man who had loyally obeyed Odin’s every whim until Thor had come of age.  Then suddenly even Odin’s edicts meant nothing if it contradicted Thor’s benefit.  The gatekeeper may never admit to it but Loki suspected lust if not love was involved.

                Instead, Loki turned his attention to the missive he was sent.  Heimdall almost never left his post.  For the gatekeeper to take the time to have a message sent to him by messenger, Loki knew it was important. “What have you seen?”

                Now Heimdall’s brow furrowed slightly beneath his golden helmet. “What I saw was unclear.  Something stirs on Muspelheim.”

                Loki buried the giddiness aching to burst from beneath his skin.  He’d provided the directions so his hired minion would discover the caverns that led to Surtur.  His minion had provided a time table but there had been no communication since.  He wanted nothing to trace back to himself because the second he wasn’t careful was when his plans always unraveled.  Although he was starting to suspect that he continued to fail because he truly didn’t wish to win.

                Instead he kept his tone curious and his face carefully blank as he asked. “Hmm…something to be concerned about?”

                Heimdall didn’t respond, but then his brow remaining furrowed was response enough.  He didn’t know.

                Loki nodded slightly. “Notify me if what you observe poses a threat to the realms.”

                “Sire.”

                Loki turned to stride back to the palace, grinning once he was assured he wouldn’t be observed.  It was almost time.  Relief and hesitation in equal measure rose up within him.  Relief that he would soon be free.  The hesitation…

                As Asgard had been restored to a glory that he remembered as a child, the hesitation had started to grow with it. His green eyes looked outward to the glorious city that he remembered.  A city that reminded him of his mother.  He was convinced his actions would be to everyone’s benefit…but somehow he felt like he was disappointing her.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Hela glanced lazily at Odin who seemed to be determined to silently stare a hole through her.  She smirked a little since he was ever so much fun to torment and decided to indulge him.  Odin noticed she was more amused than anything else and made an observation. “I fail to see the point in holding court over the dead.”

                She stroked her fingers almost lovingly across the arm rest of her throne, legs crossed and body leaned back in a casual sprawl. “To welcome the newly dead…and of course to feel important.”

                “You could at least attempt to emulate the life we left behind.”  Odin grumbled his words but reminded Hela of a pouting child.

                Hela lifted an eyebrow slowly.  This conversation felt familiar, just with different words.  Her tone was chiding as she corrected him, “I have no interest in hosting decant, self-indulgent feasts when no one here can partake.  Nor do I intend to alter my realm for your AEsir sensibility.”  Now she cast aside amusement, bored with him and those like him as her tone turned scathing.  “You’re dead.  Get over it.”

                Gruff authority filled the room, the former king of Asgard speaking. “I would not be dead if not for you.  Certainly not here.”

                Tipping her head back, Hela laughed in amusement.  After a few moments of indulgence she glanced Odin’s way again. “Oh do explain your latest attempt to foist blame on someone else.”

                “You broke your own rules to manipulate this outcome.”

                She pointed a finger in the old king’s direction as she spoke. “First of all, I have no rules so there was nothing to break.  Secondly, you read too much into my intent.”

                Odin growled his words, “It was you who spoke of a desire for I to be within your command.”

                Hela rolled her eyes.  But then her expression turned thoughtful.  “Did you know that people are predictable?  They are, morbidly so.  A creature that is predictable is boring and not worth my time.  Your societies have taken advantage of that fact, quantifying and classifying their people based upon certain status.  Humans have a class system based on income and geography.  Your own have commoners, warriors, nobility…the people within those classifications are raised to a certain standard.  Are taught to speak and act in a particular manner.”  Her hand waved dismissively as her expression filled with a dismissive disdain.  “You were tediously predictable in life, Borson.  Your eldest is just as much that I could no doubt predict his actions from now until his end.  And then we have Loki.”

                Odin folded his hands behind his back, casting a quick glance around and unconsciously mimicking one of his sons.  “Yet you managed to convince him to leave my soul to fate’s whim.”

                Now Hela looked surprised.  “You assume I lied to him.”  She grinned just a little as she shook her head.  “I did not.  He asked questions concerning you and I offered my perception.  I do not claim to be omnipotent and he does not assume such.  My answers were simply in agreement with his perception.”

                He sighed in exasperation and shook his head, grumbling, “He has done nothing but twist my words--…”

                “Shut.  Up.”  The words were as sharp as a thunder clap.  As much a command as the release of a spell.  All movement ceased and Odin was surprised to find he was at a loss for words.  Hela leaned forward, irritation on her face as she spoke, “You speak as if he does so to antagonize and vex you.  Has it never occurred to you, you old fool, he is offering you how he perceives your actions?  Perhaps instead of internalizing everything you should have explained yourself.  Love or affection or whatever you wish to call it cannot be felt and accepted, is in fact useless, if it is never expressed.”

                That indeed shut Odin up.

                Hela didn’t care either way.  While she enjoyed pointing out mistakes there was hardly any point in trying to inspire change.  Everyone here was dead.  Change was a luxury for the living.

                She crooked a finger and a pedestal slowly formed in the middle of the room. The base was filled with water and sitting perpendicular in the water was a fine width of glass.  Odin turned his attention to the object before glancing at Hela questioningly.

                “This would be the other purpose for court.  Death would be quite boring were it not for my ability to watch the living.”  Odin didn’t even realize horror was reflected on his face and Hela had to fight to suppress a giggle.  “Not everywhere.  Your throne room, for instance, was well protected from my eyes and ears.  But other realms are not nearly so shrouded.  Midgard, for instance.”

                Odin frowned slightly, confused.  “You watch mortals?”  The unspoken question was _why_.

                Hela shrugged lightly as she leaned back once more.  “They do have their moments.  Not recently, unfortunately.  The saturation of reality television has made them dreadfully stupid.”  She gestured and a goblet was presented to her, something dark and thick within.  She took the glass in one hand.  “They film themselves in real situations, which in reality is just a crass, fictitious form of life.”  She took a careful sip of whatever lay within and made a happy sound in the back of her throat. “Not even the mortals here can explain it.”  Putting the goblet to the side, she gestured and an image appeared for all within the throne room to see.  A planet consumed in flames, volcanic and considered by most beings uninhabitable. “I wish to see what happens on Muspelheim.”

                Odin eyed the fiery realm, curiosity in his voice as he asked, “Why have you interest there?”  It was a realm of the fire demon.  At one time it was inhabited by fire giants but they had died out centuries ago.

                “Surtur, of course.  Loki returned to life for the one purpose of learning the truth.  You confirmed it.  Now he will seek death and give the AEsir the final battle they so crave.”  She smiled evilly, her question wrapping around his neck like a noose, “Who else do you believe Loki will utilize?”

                Odin felt the ground beneath his feet disappear as he was filled with shock and horror.  Surtur had been so strong he couldn’t be defeated, only imprisoned.  If Loki released that creature not only would he destroy the AEsir but the remaining nine realms as well.  “What??”

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_No, Asgard isn't going to turn into all sunshine and roses.  I'm far to cynical to allow or believe that._

_And right about now Odin is thinking... oh, shit.  :D_

_**Next:** _

_Surtur has a visitor;  Thor returns (uh oh)_

 


	7. Chapter 7

MUSPELHEIM

                Benfar had been many things throughout his life.  He had started as a legitimate citizen, trained by some of the best schools in technology, from a planet well beyond the nine realms.  He’d been enlisted and excelled as a pilot.  But the war had ended badly and suddenly he was an outcast, unwelcome to return unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life behind bars.  So he’d turned to smuggling and he was damn good at it.  He’d done his fair share of grave robbing and this job had a similar feel.

                King Loki had made the way easy enough. He’d followed the map, taking a path that placed him strategically out of Heimdall’s immediate sight to a cavern that ended at a wall.  The carvings were intricate and extraordinary, the wall itself well over forty feet tall that disappeared into the rock on all sides.  But he wasn’t an archeologist so he concentrated on the lock.  This was all thousands of years old, yet the mechanics behind it could rival some of the new technology of today.

                He worked steadily, carefully unlocking each layer. Patiently he waited for the click to tell him he could proceed to the next layer.  Sweat was beading on his forehead, a full grimace on his face as he gently, carefully nudged the next piece of metal into position.  It clicked, followed by a SLAM that had Benfar hastily jerking back several paces.

                His eyes widened, hearing hundreds of gears and cogs move after so many centuries of stillness. Whether it was the dwarves or another race, he applauded the ingenuity.  The wall jerked, a layer of dust drifting down from above as the lock shifted, then opened.  A slot slid out of the opening, a strangely glowing stone at the heart of an intricate pad of circuitry.  He had no idea what it did, he just knew what he was supposed to do.

                Sweat clung to the top of his lip as he put on the carefully crafted gloves, a metal he’d never even heard of woven through it to keep himself intact. He slowly reached for the brightly glowing citrine colored gem.

                “Benfar…” A voice surprised him enough that he jerked around, his hand still empty.  His brown eyes searched, not seeing who had spoken.  He could see the hint of movement in a shadow.  He could tell by the voice that it was a woman.  “I would consider your actions carefully.”

                Benfar glanced back at the stone before directing his attention back to her as she slowly emerged from shadows that seemed to cling to her.  “Who are you?”

                She could be anyone, from any number of races.  Vanir.  AEsir.  He couldn’t tell.  Her ebony hair hung almost to her waist, her green eyes full of knowledge and secrets.  Hela smirked and shrugged. “Does it matter?”

                He stood up just a little straighter, his right hand on his weapon.  “I act on behalf of the king of Asgard.”

                Her smirk was knowing, not coming any closer as she purred her words.  “Oh you do so much more than that.”  Her green eyes flicked to the gem lying quietly in its holder.  “Do you know what he plans to do?”

                Benfar’s brown eyes glanced around nervously.  “I don’t plan on staying to find out.”

                Hela gave him a look, unimpressed.  “Not Surtur, you pathetic monkey.  Thanos.  You wish to hold in your hands one of the infinity gems.”  His expression of surprise was quickly hidden but she was delighted to have caught him by surprise.  She was well aware of much and though Loki had hired Benfar for the purpose of letting Surtur free, in reality Benfar had been hired by Thanos to retrieve the infinity gem.  “Do you understand his intent?”

                He snapped on a helmet and quickly grabbed the gem.  “He doesn’t pay me for my mind.”  He pressed a button on the suit he wore under his jacket, energy crackling around him angrily.  A boom made her wince as a tear forced apart the walls of space and time. 

                The wormhole opened just enough to swallow him whole, Hela’s voice echoing in an empty chamber.  “Greed.  How predictable.”

                Yet another mortal to disappoint her.  Most were predictable, as she had stated, and as such were subject to one of the 7 deadly sins.  It was what made Loki so delightful and why he was her favorite.  He was not disloyal by nature.  Indeed it took a monumental betrayal before he would abandon that loyalty.  He was also just as susceptible to those sins as any other mortal.  Pride and envy were two of his greatest.  Wrath currently consumed him and had since Odin had admitted to his betrayal during Thor’s exile.  Yet even at the height of his wrath on Svartalfheim Loki was still capable of self-sacrifice.

                Without the gem in place she noticed all the mechanics had gone still and a door about ten feet high had slid open.  Hela followed a bellow that shook the entire planet, entering the hollow of the world that had contained the fire demon.  A man stood in the hollow chamber that was as wide as it was deep.  For Muspelheim was hollow at the center, and here had been where reality had been bent by the gem of reality to contain such a creature.

                His appearance seemed AEsir in origin, but Hela knew better.  Reality had been bent to contain the fire demon in a mortal shell.  With the gem gone, he was free to stretch back into his true form.  She watched as he flexed his fingers, sparks bursting from his fingertips.  With another roar he clenched his fists and his entire body burst into flames.  And as the flames leapt higher and higher he started to grow.

                A dry, crackling laugh started deep but quickly soared as he spoke.  “Now is the time that Son of Borr will find regret.”

                Hela pushed herself away from the entrance, choosing to hover near to his level, rising as he grew to keep him within her line of sight.  “Past time, in actuality.  Odin is long dead.”

                That seemed to pause him for a moment.  A deep sound that she took for a satisfied hum.  Then his head cocked slightly as he regarded her.  “Asgard still exists.”

                Hela shrugged casually.  “Indeed.”

                A growl wove through his voice, rage in every word.  “I will snuff out the life of every last AEsir in creation.”

                And because Hela was feeling charitable she decided to warn him.  “Be careful.  The new king is not one to be underestimated.”

                He didn’t even look at her, dismissive. “I do not obey the whims of a Norn.”

                The sister fates were the most well-known of the Norns, but there were others. There were the malevolent Norns that arrange tragedy, while others were protective of the living.  Then there were those that like to play with the living and delight in their responses.

                Hela had been the latter.  She may no longer be what she had once been.  The introduction of demi-gods and lesser beings led to the necessity of her current role, but that part of her past remained.  Hela grinned dangerously, her eyes flashing green.  “My…my…it has been eons since last I was called such.  You truly are behind in the times.”

                Another dry chuckle filled the chamber as he ignored her comment, satisfied as something else that she said became his focus.  “If this king was newly crowned then he is young.”

                Hela didn’t even try to hide her smirk.  She already knew how to make this fool do whatever she wanted.  He didn’t trust her, which meant her warnings would be ignored.  But this was how she played the game, to offer the truth and allow these mortals to live and die by their choices.  “Compared to you and I; he is such.  He is also one that even I would not challenge.”

                Now he looked at her, disbelief in his flamed gaze.  “You…the Norn of Suffering.  The Lady Death.  The Goddess of the Underworld.”

                Hela fluffed her hair and grinned coyly.  “Flattery.”

                “What threat would a mere child be to you?”

                Her memory was extensive.  More than just the beginning, she remembered to the true beginning.  She had lied before when speaking of Ragnarok.  It wasn’t a fiction.  It had happened before.  It would again.  The true lie was the assumption that since Loki had caused it once it was his destiny to do so.  Fate wasn’t that confining.  It was all about choice. 

                But the true beginning of Ragnarok revolved around the man introduced to the nine realms as the blood brother of Odin. Matters were different this time.  Loki was not Loptr.  He was younger and taken in as a son of Odin, but the core that made the trickster such a force to be wary of in that first cycle remained even in this young demi-god.  “The AEsir have gifted him with many names, but I know his true name.  The God of Fire.”  Her lip twitched just the slightest in anticipation of Surtur’s response.  She wasn’t disappointed.

                The flames leapt upward from his body as his rage and outrage soared.  “You believe he can control me?  I am Surtur.  All fire demons live and die by my will alone.  Fire is mine to command, not some infant!  I can reach across realms and crush him with my army.”

                Her lip twitched, her expression turning bored.  “Pride.  So expected a sin.  Be warned, you would wage war against the nine realms and destroy them in your rage.”

                “I am familiar with the strength of Yggdrasil.  A species may be destroyed so long as the realm remains intact.”  His flamed fists clenched as fire leapt forward, small fire demons produced in the wake.  “I much prefer to rule over their burnt corpses than to hand victory to you.”

                Hela rolled her eyes and turned to go.  “As if Ragnarok were my victory.  But my warning is thus: there are worse fates than imprisonment.  If you are not cautious he will introduce such to you.”

                And with a swirl of shadow she was gone as Surtur’s crackling laughter echoed through Muspelheim.

* * *

ASGARD

                Loki knelt down silently, flicking a stray blade of grass from the marble before standing back up again.  He had no opportunity to see her soul gain acceptance into Valhalla but he could do this much for his mother.  The fountain was beautiful, multiple layers of cascading water amongst different colored blocks of stones.  This was her favorite spot in the gardens and she always had loved running water.

                His green eyes flicked to the left.  He’d crafted a slightly raised pedestal next to her fountain with Gungnir leaning on top of it carefully.  There were no labels for either piece and there didn’t need to be.  Memorials such as this were built to bring peace to the living, not to remind the realm of the dead.  That was what the Hall of the Dead was for. 

                The muscles along his jaw twitched a little before he took a step back.  He honestly wasn’t certain why he’d created this rather modest memorial for Odin.  He kept telling himself it was all for appearances but sometimes even he could spot his own lies.  He was both satisfied and saddened by Odin’s death.  Satisfied that he had won, for he had no doubt the AEsir king was in Helheim.  As to the sadness…a regret that Odin couldn’t have been the father he wished him to be, and now with his death he never could.

                His eyes returned to her fountain again. He would always remember her.  Those gentle eyes; the humor in her face.  She more than anyone else had been amused by his mischief and more than half of his antics in his youth were done strictly to gain a smile or a laugh from her.

                Regrets were not in his nature, yet for her he was forced to regret much of the past. It was something that rarely plagued him.  He was always moving.  Always pushing forward.  But he’d been standing still long enough that they had caught up with him.  Regret that he was the type of man that he was.  A male witch.  A man who reveled in whit over brawn.  Who bathed himself in lies until no one could decipher truth.  A man not strong enough to be considered an AEsir warrior.

                He would never apologize for it, but he also knew it would be the cause of his inevitable downfall. But other regrets were trying to creep forward that rage had pushed back until now.  Regret that he’d let his ambition control and destroy what he’d once had.  Regret that she’d died.  Even more so that he considered himself at least partially to blame for her death.  Regret that he’d let Odin slip away--

                He pushed that last thought away violently and brushed away the moisture at the corner of his eye with agitation. _The sun was irritating my eyes. That was all it was_.

                He required an immediate distraction.  He refused to wallow because that was what he was doing.  Perhaps it was time to turn his attention to mischief.  It might be fun to torment the mortals, but it also might draw Thor’s attention and he didn’t want that. Asgard, then.  As king few would suspect him of stooping to pulling pranks and even if they knew...what could they do about it?  Loki knew there would be an advantage to being king.

                In the distance, an increase of voices and shouts caught his attention. He turned and frowned slightly, seeing black smoke rising up towards the sky.  It might be a simple house fire, but instinctively he knew it wasn’t.  Centuries of practice kept the pleased smirk from spreading across his face.

 _Perfectly timed_.

* * *

                Sif ran down the cobblestone, sword in hand with several warriors behind her. From the smoke that had been visible from the palace she was expecting a fire.  From the shouts she was expecting an invading army.  As she turned the corner she realized both expectations were correct.

                All up and down the street the buildings were catching on fire. AEsir were stumbling out of their homes, mothers hovering protectively over their children.  Men were shouting and running from building to building.  But it was a strange fire.  Small creatures with four legs and a tail were leaping about and causing the fires.  The men focused on trying to destroy them with boot and sword.  Gritting her teeth, with a battle cry she stormed forward and cut a creature in half.  A forked tongue hissed out at her, sounding like embers crackling from a hearth.  Then the severed torso grew legs while the lower half grew another upper body.  One creature had become two.

                Her jaw dropped in shock.

                Fandral had been standing on the street, sword loosely in hand as he’d watched her trying to kill what he’d had the same lack of success in accomplishing. He shared a look with her, looking weary.  “How do we defeat a foe we cannot impale?”

                The men were all looking to her and she felt the burden of that responsibility. Her AEsir instincts said to find something more deadly to kill them with but she knew it would be a stupid reply.  Instead, she focused on the more prudent of the two problems.  Her lips pursed as she glanced around.  Spotting her prize, she sheathed her sword and tossed him a bucket while grasping one of her own.  “You put it out.”

* * *

                 Loki held out his hand and clenched his fist, smirking grimly as the little fire demon shriveled and died by the will of his magic. He wasn’t surprised.  Magic and life went hand in hand.  If he could snuff out a camp fire with magic, killing a fire demon was no challenge.  In this instance he created a negative space without air and contracted it.  Fire demons couldn’t exist without the fire that forged them.  He made his way swiftly down the hallway for the throne room, killing the little beasts as he went.

                 He entered to see the warriors that weren’t out in force flocked in the courtroom, waiting for him. _Such sheep_.  It was so disappointing.  He barked at them impatiently, “What are you doing in here?  You should be out there protecting the citizens.”

                 The warriors stood taller, one of them bowing to him. “It’s not a fire, sire, it’s an invasion.”

                 As if he were saying something that Loki wouldn't have figured out.  He couldn't decide at the moment if the intelligence quotients of AEsir had dropped since his fall from the Bi-frost or if they had always been this stupid and he just hadn't noticed.  He fought to keep from sighing.  He fought even harder to keep his irritation off his face.  For now he needed them loyal but once war truly began all bets were off. "All the more reason for you to be out there in force."  Loki could see the objections forming on his lips and couldn't hold onto his irritation as it bled into his tone. "The **first** priority is to defense of what you can see.  We will worry about instigation secondarily once matters are under control."

                One of the little bastards leapt from a torch and streaked across the marble towards anything flammable. With an impatient snarl Loki blasted it with a quick burst of green power.  It exploded and didn’t regenerate.  The warriors shifted, getting a taste of the rage that Loki was careful to hide…and fearing it. 

                He turned on them slowly, his expression growing cold. “Concentrate on the matter at hand.  Get out there before there is nothing left of Asgard to defend.”

                As the warriors scattered Loki turned as he felt something familiar. Something in the air that went beyond light and sound, a shift of power coming from the edge of Asgard.  The Bi-frost.  He couldn’t decide if the smile stretching across his face was pleased or malicious.  Perhaps it was both.  Since there was only one AEsir unaccounted for, it could only be one person returning to Asgard.

* * *

                Thor wasn’t certain what to expect when he took his first steps onto the observatory. It had been quite some time and though he had rejected his right to rule he was still a citizen of Asgard.  Sif and the warriors could be waiting for him.  Or father could have the guards waiting for him.  He wasn’t expecting to see Heimdall fighting back creatures that seemed to be made of fire.

                He took just a moment to assess before hefting Mjolnir and hurling it towards the flamed beast. The creature splattered into a dozen pieces and Thor’s smile was grim, hand extended in time to catch his war hammer as it returned to him.  The smile slipped in surprise as the little creatures started to emerge and grow from each of the splintered pieces.

                Heimdall nodded to him in greeting, having as difficult a time in killing them. “Asgard is in need of her prince.”

                Thor looked outward, blue eyes widening to see over half of the buildings up in flames. Inspiration lit Thor’s eyes and he started to spin Mjolnir rapidly.  The added wind aided the flames near him to climb higher but the fire demons were also being pushed back.  With a crackled cry one of them lost traction and went flailing off the Bi-frost, extinguishing when it hit the water.

                Glancing at Heimdall as he continued to swing. “Where is my father?”

                Heimdall stiffened almost imperceptively but answered with care, having no intention of being the one to inform Thor of his father’s passing and facing the thunderer’s wrath. He knew for a fact Loki had sent a missive from the palace to inform the son of his father’s passing but he now suspected the message hadn’t reached its destination.  “The King of Asgard walks the center path.”

                With a nod to himself Thor spun his war hammer faster. More and more of them soon followed until the observatory was free of demons but not fire.  Heimdall turned his attention to putting the flames out while Thor threw his hammer forward and went hurling along with it.

                Water and stone and land were flying underneath him, the people that he passed so focused on the fire they didn’t notice.  Thor landed in a crouch along the main cobblestone path, taking in his surroundings with a warrior’s efficiency.  Guards and warriors were going down each street, escorting children with their mothers out of danger while men were being given buckets and instructed to put out the flames.

                Sif turned to her right, her face set in stone as she barked out orders.  “Form a line to the water’s edge.  Conserve your strength--…”

                Thor called out to her as he approached.  “Sif!”

                Her eyes widened as she recognized Thor’s voice but she didn’t turn back yet, nodding to the warrior she was talking to.  “Go.”

                The warriors filed away from her quickly and now she turned.  Thor couldn’t tell if her face was set so grimly because of the circumstances or if something else was bothering her.  She blinked and seemed to remember herself, nodding in his direction.  She wasn’t happy with him but he was a prince of the realm and she would formally show him respect.  “Prince.”

                Fandral jerked his head up in surprise, grinning a second later. “Thor!”  The grin slipped a few seconds later as if he suddenly remembered himself.

                Sif kept her tone even as she addressed Thor, “You’re here to assist?”

                Thor strode to them quickly, not noticing her rather cool reception.  Giving another assessing glance around as he asked, “Is this an invasion?”

                “It seems to be more of an issue of pest control.”

                Thor froze, internally and externally.  He knew that voice.  That agonizingly familiar rich drawl of sarcasm and whit.  He was blind to his friends bowing, not to him, but to the newcomer of their discussion.  Suddenly he could barely draw in the breath required to speak, a plea in his voice as he slowly turned.  “Loki?”

                Loki felt his lips quirk of their own accord.  He wanted to remain angry but Thor’s expression was too amusing.  His green eyes glanced around at the devastation and decided now wasn’t the time to indulge.  “Sif?  What is our progress?”

                As Sif spoke, Thor found himself unable to hear her.  During his first battle this had occurred.  A moment when the initial volley had shocked him.  Everything had gone quiet and moved so strangely.  It was that dangerous moment when too many green soldiers were lost.  The arms masters tried to prepare every warrior for battle.  They drilled and drilled so muscles took over until the mind could catch up.

                Then sound returned as his mind woke up.  A storm of emotions rose up from the silence.  As Thor’s eyes moved to stare at the figure that had walked closer, stunned into inaction, everyone looked up as the thunder clouds started to roll in. 

                Just from the dark, foreboding color it was going to be a bad storm but Loki looked up with a smile of triumph before he ordered Thor firmly. “Call in the storm.”  It would be much easier for Thor to use his natural talent than for he to waste his magical strength for a deluge.

                “Loki…you…”  Thor struggled to think of something to say that didn’t involve his fist and Loki’s face.

                Loki ignored him, well aware of where Thor’s emotions were trying to pull him.  Snapping at him impatiently.  “Thor.  The storm.  Call it in and kill them.”

                Thor knew there was a time to set his emotions free but he recognized Loki’s tone. It was a tone from their shared battles.  A tone used to focus him to things that were more important than his own indulgence.  He set his face grimly and looked upward, raising Mjolnir towards the skies.  Thunder rumbled and lightening crashed as the skies grew darker and the clouds thicker.  Lightning struck the ground less than five feet away, Thor staring at Loki even as Sif and Fandral both leapt back. 

                That had been on purpose. A warning that a discussion between the two of them was going to occur.  Loki just slowly raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

                Blue eyes narrowing, Thor focused as he turned. Thunder rumbled again and the skies opened, rain pouring down until they were all saturated within seconds.  Fandral shook his wet hair out of his eyes, looking unhappy.  He HATED getting wet.  Sif turned with dark eyes, watching the result with satisfaction.  The fires were quickly extinguished, the fire demons screaming and squealing as they too were extinguished and died.

                Even as a cheer rose up through the streets, the last of the fire extinguished in the storm, Loki kept a careful eye on Thor. The throne was his, legitimately acknowledged now but that didn’t mean the thunderer would be reasonable about it.  Thor couldn’t combat his magic but Loki couldn’t combat Thor’s strength.  If the pair of them had to fight, as Loki was starting to suspect was going to occur, it might be the Bi-frost all over again.

                Thor didn’t turn, his back to the trickster. Which Loki thought was a mistake considering how easy it would be to stab him with something large and pointy.  But there was tension in every one of Thor’s muscles and Loki mentally winced.  “Was it a trick to fool me, brother?”

                Sif froze. There were questions she'd had concerning Loki’s return from the grave that had never been answered, mostly because she saw no point in asking. Truth and Loki were not friends.  Nor was she his confidant.  She was quite certain if she'd dared to ask he would either ignore her, lie to her, or banish her.  Perhaps all three.  Even as the rest of Asgard continued to celebrate she remained focused on the pair of them, listening closely.

                Loki didn’t even have to ask what he meant by that. His death on Svartalfheim had all the theatrics of a grand trick.  He was a little surprised that Thor would again call him brother so easily but he wasn’t going to question it.  Still he was Loki and getting right to the point wasn’t his style.  “You will have to be a bit more--…”

                “Svartalfheim.” Thor spoke the word harshly as he interrupted, but then his voice changed and softened with heartache.  “I thought you dead…”

                That was a bit more distress than Loki had anticipated. He would have thought Thor would be pleased to be rid of him.  It was strangely gratifying to hear distress and grief in Thor’s tone.  What surprised Loki was the pang of guilt that hit his heart that he was the cause of that distress.  Again. 

                Opening his mouth, Loki was about to respond with something flippant but felt his eyes widen slightly as the truth quietly slipped out. “I was.”  He gasped almost silently, involuntarily, an instant later.  He hadn’t meant to say that.

                Loki was a liar. A damn good one and Thor was too often fooled by those lies.  But he heard the surprise.  As skilled at lying as Loki was, he had no skill in projecting false emotions.  Jerking around roughly, Thor lurched forward and Loki braced himself to get tackled or punched. 

                Loki was completely unprepared for Thor to wrap both arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides, and pick him up as he hugged the breath right out of him. He also couldn’t understand why he was allowing the thunderer’s grasp.  He was stiff and he wouldn’t allow himself to indicate the gesture was welcome…but he also didn’t fight it.

* * *

HELHEIM

                The glass in Helheim’s throne room showed the rain dousing the last of the flames.  It showed weak curls of smoke slowly rising as wood and stone cooled.  Not many were watching, finding such predictable victory rather boring.  Odin had a little smile on his face, proud that his son could so easily defeat such a foe with his might.  

                Hela wasn’t watching the image of Asgard, she was watching Odin. With practice she resisted the urge to roll her eyes from her spot on the throne.  Half hidden in one of the shadows, Hela noted Farbauti had rolled her eyes in disgust.  But Hela felt a twinge of anticipation.  The fun had just started and Odin was twice the fool if he truly believed differently.  As if the matter was resolved.  That had been nothing.  Fodder sent forward to warn Asgard of war.  Now it would be a question of if Asgard would respond or if they would wait until Surtur came to them. 

                It would be better if they waited. Muspelheim was an endless supply of fire.  At least war on Asgard gave them a possibility of success, even if the result would be devastating to their realm.  Going to him would be suicide.  But then again, an AEsir wouldn’t wait.  And if Loki was going to seek death, this could be the final battle he craved.  Either way, Surtur had merely been stalled, not defeated.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_I still think my favorite part was when Loki called this a matter of pest control.  It just popped in my head and it sounded like something he would say.  :)_

_**Next:** _

_Loki and Thor chat;  Loki and Sif chat_


	8. Chapter 8

ASGARD

                Loki walked with purpose for the throne, barking orders as he went.  He fully expected once Thor’s brain had a chance to catch up there would be a power struggle between the two of them for who truly deserved the throne.  Thor was in for a rude awakening if he thought Loki would simply stand to the side and **know his place**. 

 _As the mortal’s would say, finders keepers and all that_ …

                A flick of his wrist and Loki was instantly dry, ignoring all the others soaked to the bone behind him. Since he was going to order them back out into the deluge there was little point.  A globe of light expanded in his hand and he sent it to hover high above them.  With the current storm and sunset only a few hours away Asgard was going to get very dark very quickly.  All eyes turned upward before reaffirming on their king.  “Go through the city path by path.  Make certain all the fires are out.  Hogun, take Fandral and Volstagg with you.  Until we know more make sure word is spread that there will be no fires tonight.  Not by hearth or torchlight.”

                Hogun bowed his head silently but Volstagg’s frown was evident even through his beard as he asked. “Sire. What are the citizens to do for food?  Light?”

                Loki paused to slowly raise an eyebrow at him, his expression saying the answer was obvious. “Contact the kitchens on your way. Distribute what’s needed from cold storage.”  His thoughts moved to that little light.  It was the first spell that anyone learned since it was the easiest to produce and the least draining to attempt.  “As for light, ask Lady Eir if you might borrow a few of her apprentices.  The spell is elementary enough that any caster with an ounce of seidr in their veins and more than five minutes of training has learned it.”  He turned his attention to the AEsir known by many as the God of War.  “General Tyr, gather the war advisors…assess what needs to be done in case there is a second wave of attack.  Sif.  Put the guard on alert.” 

                Thor followed silently, taking in everything but saying nothing. On the streets it had escaped his notice but not now that Loki was in the throne room.  The formal, stately attire his brother wore was for that of a king.  He bit the inside of his lip hard to keep himself silent.  He had meant what he said.  He held no desire for the throne now.  And most of that reason had to do with what coveting the throne had done to Loki. 

                He stopped at the bottom of the steps next to the others as he watched Loki spin around and sit on the throne, authority in his tone. “We must devise who this enemy is and smite them before they have the opportunity to regroup.  Clear the throne room.”

                There was a scramble for everyone to obey.  At the doors Sif and the warriors three hesitated but Loki didn’t veer his gaze for an instant from Thor.  When nothing was said from either brother, they too retreated and the doors closed behind them.

                “Where is father?”  Thor didn’t wait, the question in the air as soon as the doors closed.

                _Such a typical question_ , was all Loki could think.  Now that he was back from the dead, all of Thor’s concern shifted to Odin.

                Loki mentally grimaced as sarcasm bled into his tone.  He wanted to be regal to show Thor the kind of king he could be but the thunderer always did bring out the worst in him.  “I am King of Asgard, not caretaker over the throne.  Where do you think he is?”  Because they both knew Odin wouldn’t allow Loki near the throne were this a temporary arrangement.  Not after the disaster of just a short while ago.  Thor looked blindsided all over again, devastated.  Loki took his time pushing himself to his feet and almost strolling back down the steps.  There was so much he could say.  So long had he spent thinking about what he would say.  He stopped on the very last step, which kept him slightly taller than Thor and tilted his head ever so slightly to the side.  He spoke without truly thinking and what came out was more venomous than he’d anticipated.  “Tell me, _brother_ , how does it feel?  To discover the death of someone you love so dearly.  To realize not only are they gone, but that you have missed your opportunity to say goodbye.”

                “Loki…”  Thor looked absolutely crushed, staring up at Loki with the most wounded expression Loki had ever seen.  “How could you do that to me, Loki?”

                _Good_ , was all Loki could think.  Different circumstances but that had been himself after learning of mother’s death.  Only he couldn’t ask such questions of Thor and Odin because neither had even a second thought for him, much less a first.  Instead of defending himself that he had followed through but for some reason the letter didn’t reach Thor, Loki narrowed his eyes as bitterness and anger filled his voice. “It was as easy for me as it was for you.”

                Thor searched for something to say. “Lok--…”

                “I AM NOT FINISHED.”

                The roar from his normally quiet, controlled brother stopped Thor from speaking. The snarled words were startling in their intensity and pulled the thunderer up short.  He’d never seen his brother so angry.  Loki always hid his emotions, a wide smile on his face camouflage for everything.  For his brother’s anger to be so great it was easy for even him to see worried him. 

                Loki seemed to visibly consider before continuing, straining to keep his tone even. “You would not defy his orders to tell me yourself.  I seriously doubt if the soldier who told me of her m-murder was asked to give me the news by either of you.  You left me to rot in those dungeons while giving my spot **to a mortal**.”  Only Loki could take such a simple, innocent word and make it sound vulgar.

                Thor found his voice, reproach in his voice. “You rejected all of us through betrayal.”

                Loki loosely crossed his arms over his chest and replied casually. “And yet you would come to me with offers of vengeance as my only reward.  How enticing.”  After the dark elves Thor had come to him in the dungeons and proposed an alliance between the two of them to kill the one who had killed their mother.  But then Thor stupidly stated that after their task he would return Loki to his cell.  “You were practically on bended knee, begging for my knife in your back at the first opportunity.”  Loki said the last with a sneer on his face but not the traditional accompaniment of a tease in his eyes.

                “Did you--…” Thor couldn’t even complete the thought, the possible truth too horrifying for him to even give a voice.  He knew that Loki had been furious with Odin, but it was a horrifying thought that Loki would really kill the old king.

                Disgust crossed Loki’s face, unchecked. “He fell into sleep and did not awaken.”  He knew Thor assumed his expression was at the thought of killing Odin.  He would let Thor indulge in his naiveté.  He was disgusted Thor would assume he was feeling that generous.

                Now Thor frowned in confusion as he asked. “Then how are you king?”

                “You abdicated, from my understanding.” Thor was ignorant of the fact that his abdication was to Loki in disguise, not to Odin.  He would allow that lie to continue since the alternative was putting up with Thor whining about it.  Loki waved a dismissive hand at the questions he could see piling up in Thor’s blue eyes.  “Ask those near and dear to you.  I am certain they will delight in regaling you with a bit of theater.”  

                “How could you not tell me?”

                Loki gave in to Thor’s kicked expression with a soft sigh. “I gave the missive to a servant, as I do with all messages and left it at that.  You didn’t reply so I didn’t question you turning your back on Asgard any more than you and yours ever questioned me.”  Thor’s head tilted slightly as if to question the truth of Loki’s words.  “Obviously someone failed in their duties and it will be dealt with.”  Loki just wasn’t certain if he would reward them or have them whipped.

                Thor searched around the throne room, hurt and betrayal chasing across his face. “And you could not--…”

                “Climb down off your martyred pedestal.” Loki snapped the words impatiently at him.  He wasn’t foolish enough to expect an apology from Thor for his own actions but that Thor expected **him** to apologize was just infuriating.  “How warm a reception would I have received even if I were inclined to go to Midgard?” 

                “But surely you could have sent someone in your stead. Why would you believe I--…” 

                Loki knew instantly what Thor was going to ask. ‘Why would he believe a reaction so outside of his character?’  The look that crossed Loki’s face just dared Thor to continue.  Thor wisely chose not to and after a moment they both marveled that they hadn’t come to blows yet.

                “It was so easy for you.”  Thor frowned slightly, hearing the subject change.  Loki’s thoughts had moved on to how they accepted so quickly that he had become a blood thirsty tyrant in less than a year.  When the thunderer’s frown didn’t lighten Loki continued the thought.  “To just assume the worst after so long of being your loyal tag-a-long.  That a thousand years of mischief eventually equates treachery.”  Loki slowly shook his head, frustration in his eyes.

                Thor’s thoughts moved to Midgard. To the conversation they’d briefly had on the mountain top. “I asked you Loki.  Not once did you ever say why.”

                Loki raised an eyebrow, tone curious. “Why should I?”

                The thunderer shook his head, frustration starting to contort his expression. “You forced us to assume the worst.”

                The trickster chuckled without humor. “Ah, yes.  Of course. **You** were the one shackled and forced--…”

                “Loki…”

                Loki cut off whatever Thor was going to say, asking with a dismissive shrug. “When have you ever believed me?  Further, when have you ever accepted my actions as true intent and not thought of as deception?  Ah yes…when it was convenient to believe.”

                Thor stood up a little taller, thinking of all the tricks and lies. Centuries of deception.  “You have spent a thousand years perfecting the art of deception.”

                A slight snarl entered Loki’s voice, thinking of the years that Odin had lied to him.  Not just a small lie of his adoption.  He could have handled being adopted from another AEsir family.  Even Vanir.  Hel, he would prefer to find himself a mortal given godhood than a Jötunn runt stolen from that realm’s king.  A mortal was a finite being looked down upon as small and narrow minded…Jötunn were believed to be savage monsters with no honor.  It was a lie that rocked the very foundation of his sense of self.  “Of course.  An art I must have been born with instead of learning it from the **true** God of Lies.”

               Thor’s expression sombered. He looked no more pleased than Loki was as Odin had lied to both of them.  “We were both lied to in that regard.”

               Loki took the last step and folded his hands behind his back, his steps even as he crossed the throne room in no particular direction as he stared outward, bitterness choking him. “It is so easy to accept that I commit a crime for the sake of doing so.  After all, Frost Giants are nothing more than evil monsters spawned from an unholy union of Ymir lying as a woman with the demons of Niflheim.”  Loki glanced slightly over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked and green eyes cold.  “Correct?”  Those had been his words and Thor recognized them instantly.  He’d said other, worse things, but now knowing his brother’s origins he wished he’d never spoken them.  Thor winced, Loki not seeing the reaction as his thoughts turned inward and he murmured to himself.  “Guilty until proven innocent.”  A sly smirk curled Loki’s lip, slanting a glance in Thor’s direction and a chill in his voice.  “Your little mortal friends would be so horrified if they knew of the true Asgard instead of the idealic picture you no doubt painted for them.”

               “I do not know of what you speak, brother.”

               Loki snorted and rolled his eyes. “Of course not.  We have lived in the same realm, a door away from one another, but quite obviously we have lived in different worlds.”  He turned fully now, gesturing slightly towards his brother.  “Thor the hero.  Thor the mightiest of warriors.  Thor the perfect.  They trailed behind you since your status as warrior was made official, but they never knew you as I knew you.”  His lips twisted nastily but he kept his thoughts to himself.  _Thor the drunk. Thor the whore.  Thor the reckless idiot_.  Thor shifted uncomfortably, knowing whatever Loki was thinking was not something he wanted to hear.  Instead Loki’s voice changed to imitate others, repeating words and whispers he’d either overheard or said to his face.  “Why can you not be like Thor, Loki?  What is wrong with Loki?  The deceptive second son.  The evil of Loki.  The forked-tongued prince…were those not some of the rumors started by court?”

                Thor knew what Loki was talking about and he didn’t look pleased about it. The expression would be more gratifying to Loki if something had actually been done about it.  “I had no hand in that, brother.”

                “It was so easy for you and Odin to pretend to hear nothing.” Now darkness crossed Loki’s expression as he slowly stalked towards Thor.  An old wound that had been festering for years now at the forefront of his mind.  “It was so wonderful for you to be present when I was cursed as an ergi.”  Thor violently flinched at the word, unable not to.  It was the worst slander for an AEsir.  A man who fought like a woman.  To be an ergi, one might as well be a woman for they certainly weren’t a real man and brought nothing but shame to their family.  It was certainly not what a son of Odin should aspire to be.  “What was your response?  Oh yes, you **laughed**.”  Loki sneered even as he glared.  “So inspiring for one’s confidence.”  It had been centuries ago, but Loki had a long memory and the wound was still raw.  Thor glanced away, but Loki caught something in his expression.  “What was that?”

                “I do not know what you mean, brother.” Thor refused to look in his direction, which telegraphed an obvious lie.

                Narrowing his eyes, Loki’s tone full of warning. “Thor.”

                Thor paused for a moment before reluctantly speaking. He’d rather not say anything, but that Loki obviously thought he didn’t care moved him past his reluctance.  “You are speaking of Colborn.”

                “Of course I am.”

                Thor visibly paused before sighing, shoulders slumping forward ever so slightly. “After you had vanished he and I had words.”  That dark eyebrow quirked ever so slightly, Loki’s expression clearly unimpressed.  Another sigh before Thor plodded forward.  “I vowed if he ever vexed you again our second conversation would involve his face and my hammer.”  Loki’s jaw dropped open.  An embarrassed half-smile tugged at the thunderer’s lip, deciding he might as well tell his brother the rest of the tale.  “I further explained that if that word was ever used against you by anyone ever again I would come to him for the explanation.”

                 It was Loki’s turn to look away, now understanding why Thor had been reluctant to share. AEsir fought their own battles.  It had been drummed into both of them by Odin their entire lives.  That Thor broke such a rule for him…moved him.  He would have appreciated it more if Thor had not laughed to begin with but Thor’s belated actions did help soothe the hurt.

                 If he were in an antagonizing mood, he could accuse Thor of thinking he was some helpless maiden who needed protecting. As it was he found he wanted the topic either dropped or changed as soon as possible.

                 Loki lightly cleared his throat, reaching forward to lightly tap the front of Thor’s armor with three fingers. The thunderer was instantly dry but Loki kept moving a few more paces, not meeting Thor’s gaze.  “You never believed when I argued my innocence, only when I admitted to a guilty assumption even if it wasn’t true.  After a while it becomes easier to simply agree and find my revenge with the guilty party later.”

                Thor frowned, not completely sure he believed Loki but willing to listen. “When were you ever found guilty of what you did not commit?”

                Loki crossed his arms uncomfortably as he paused, wishing he’d never started this conversation. He could lie.  He probably should.  “Sif’s hair, for example.”

                “You admitted to it!”

                Loki tilted his head slightly, his expression saying quite clearly that Thor was an idiot. “Considering you refused to stop grinding me beneath your boot until I did so, but yes. I did.”  He shrugged and summed up the, until now, unexplained animosity between himself and Tyr with one sentence.  “It was easier to get even with Tyr later than to continue arguing an innocence none believed.”

                That lost, horrified look that was becoming too familiar crossed Thor’s face again. “Loki…”

                Loki gestured dismissively with a sigh.  “Even if I had full control of my faculties on Midgard, can you perhaps see why I didn’t even consider asking for your aid?”

                “What do you mean in control of yourself?”

                Loki was quick to wave a hand, cursing his loose tongue while being surprised Thor had even asked.  It would be too difficult to explain his partial control over himself on Midgard.  Opening the portal was out of his control, as were his physical interactions with the mortals.  But not even Thanos could still his silver tongue and he’d used it to control the damage.  Not stop the damage of course.  He wanted Thanos to believe he was a terrible general and an arrogant fool, as opposed to being a threat that the Titan would be focused on destroying.  He wanted just enough chaos and destruction to catch Asgard’s attention so there would be no choice in keeping himself and the Tesseract in Asgard, safely out of Thanos’ reach.

                So he left hints as to where the Tesseract was. It was his suggestion of a failsafe to Selvig.  He would freely admit he was in control of himself when he sent Thor plummeting out of the air ship, but he’d also known such a fall wouldn’t kill the thunderer.  Especially not with Mjolnir in his grasp.  Not that he felt he owed Thor that explanation.  _I am exonerated before the eyes of Asgard. I don’t care if Thor believes me innocent or not._

                Not even he was convinced of that last lie.

                Instead of explaining further Loki shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.  Your room is still as it was, stay as long as you wish.”  He paused in his retreat towards the corridor, his spine stiffening.  “But I will not be handing over crown and mantle to you, just so we are both clear on that fact.”

                Thor instantly frowned.  “I was not going to ask you to.”

                Loki had almost disappeared into a side corridor, but there was an obvious pause in his steps before he continued onward.

* * *

                Loki hadn’t even had a chance to get comfortable in his chair before the study doors opened and Sif silently slipped inside.  No knocking.  No preamble.  But then again it wouldn’t have occurred to her to ask for permission.  Her head nodded to give respect to his office, her actions all correct even if, as ever, there was something just a little off about them.  “Sire.”

                He didn’t even look up the map laid out on his desk as he spoke.  “Have the citizens been seen to?”

                Sif came further into the room, back stiff.  “Lady Eir has sent most of her healers out to assist in making sure there will be light in Asgard.  Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg have seen to distributing food and organizing repairs.  The damage was minimal.”  Loki made a humming sound, still focused on the map before him.  She took another step.  “Those creatures were bred by fire.  The old stories speak of such a creature who could create them at will to smite his enemies.”  Her eyes widened as she noted the map on his desk was a layout of Muspelheim.  “Surtur.”

                Loki tapped the map in front of him once, glancing up with a frown.  “Surtur was contained on his world.”  Then he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.  “We should ensure that is still true.”

                “We, sire?  Surely--…”

                He smirked and cut off her protest.  “Just because I am king does not mean I am chained to Asgard.  Odin headed several wars personally.  The method of Surtur’s containment was not expressed and a quick mind will be needed to assess it.”

                There was an insult to AEsir intelligence hovering in there somewhere but Sif ignored it, focused on practicality.  “If he has escaped we will smite him.”

                Loki leant back in his chair and got comfortable. “You truly believe we can destroy a fire demon a thousand feet tall?  Do you believe in my might that much when not even Odin could destroy him?”

                Sif shifted again, looking uncomfortable before asking, “May I speak freely?”

                Loki lifted an eyebrow and countered her question with one of his own. “When have I ever demanded otherwise of you, Sif?  Bluntness is in your nature so obey it.”

                She nodded once slowly and paused for just a moment before saying what everyone knew. “The people of Asgard have always held Lord Odin’s physical might in high regard.”  Now her dark eyes lifted, glancing at him as her spine stiffened.  “But we all knew your mystical might eclipsed his.”

                He smirked and purred his words, not believing her for an instant even though he couldn’t detect the lie. “How sweet.  Placating your king.”

                Her rebuttal was swift, “Truth is my strength as lies are yours.”

                Loki pressed his index fingers lightly to his lips, feeling the corner of his lips twitch as he decided to satisfy a curiosity. “Then tell me this truth.  Just how deeply did it burn when I was named successor after Thor’s desertion?”

                “It didn’t burn.” Loki slowly raised an eyebrow at Sif in disbelief.  “My regret is that Thor chose Midgard over Asgard.”

                He bared his teeth at her and neither of them bothered to attempt to call it a smile. “Now who is the liar?”

                Sif kept her expression carefully neutral. “You can hear lies as most can hear a song.  You know I am not lying.”

                His eyes narrowed just a little as he watched her carefully. “Then there were no regrets?”

                She slowly inhaled before she spoke slowly. “I will not say that.  There were regrets.  We were convinced you would kill us for what happened before.”  An evil little smirk curled his lips, clearly amused.  She also wasn’t wrong because for a moment or two he had entertained the thought.

                “Why the sudden change?” Loki’s question felt like a change in subject but it really wasn’t.  “You were so desperate that I not sit on the throne before, even as caretaker.”

                Now reluctance crossed her face as she replied. “You’ve always had your tricks.”  At the annoyed look that crossed his face she clarified.  “I do not mean your magic.  I mean your sly skills.  You can hide behind an impenetrable mask and none can determine what you are thinking or feeling.”  Loki preened a little even if to an AEsir her words could have been taken as an insult.  Sif’s thoughts were to that disastrous time when Thor was exiled and Loki was handed the mantle.  “Sitting on the throne, I not just saw but felt your rage, from what I know not.”  His expression was quick to close off.  “I feared what you would do to Asgard while Lord Odin was indisposed.”  There was a pause before she continued, her reluctance accompanied by the faintest of blushes.  “And yes…I was petty then and thought Thor was better suited.”

                “And now?”

                She shrugged and answered as if it were obvious. “Now you are our king, it matters not why.”

                There was still no expression on his face but there was a hard intensity to his eyes. “Even if I am only king because there was no other choice and if Odin had a younger daughter he would rather name her than I?”

                Sif’s eyes widened as she blinked at him. That a king would choose a daughter over a son was unthinkable, which was the source of most of her surprise.  That he would actually say something like that about himself only served to shock her further.  But she recovered from her surprise after a few moments of silence.  “I highly doubt that.”

                “I don’t.”

                Sif decided to ignore him, interpreting his rather outrageous statements as an attempt to goad her. “You are the voice of Asgard, your will is our life.”  He was more skilled at hiding it now, but she could still feel the rage burning inside of him.  She wasn’t certain where it came from, although she had a suspicion that she and the other warriors had helped it burn as brightly as it did.  Which caused her to worry, for she had never known anyone to be so angry for so long.  She could only hope that eventually it would pass.  “I cannot speak for anyone but myself.  All those centuries of brashly going on adventures.  Defeating foes in glory.  You were the one who held us together.  Your plans and schemes.  Your tricks.  Your presence assured our victory.  Thor was the mightiest fighter of us all, charging headfirst into battle and we to take care of the rest in his wake.  You were the one that ensured that we lived to fight another day.”  Words that she wouldn’t have admitted to just a few years ago.  Words she was privately surprised she was sharing.  Idly she wondered if Loki had put some sort of spell on the room to force truth.  “It may not be what Tyr and the other arms masters taught us but for obvious reasons I’ve never completely followed convention.”

                A female warrior. A male witch.

                Loki’s expression had slowly melted into an impenetrable mask. “So convenient that you say this now.”

                “You are king, my lord. You commanded I obey my nature.”

                “That I did.” Loki nodded ever so slightly in confirmation.

                A very small, wry grin curled her lips. “You were also a sulking, self-absorbed brat, envious of the praise and recognition that Thor gained.  You were jealous.  You were petty.  You have often called me a bitch, but it is an art I learned from you.  You lashed out at him and the rest of us, doing so with words and pranks instead of fists.”

                Loki’s lips twitched, well used to those sorts of insults coming from her. “Now that sounds more like the truth.”

                “They were both the truth. You enjoyed antagonizing me.  You still do.”  She fiddled with the end of her hair, her brow furrowed slightly.

                Now Loki understood her candor. He had always found guilt such a curious emotion.  Sif hadn’t been the one to hold him down until he admitted to butchering her hair.  That had been Thor.  But she was the one that accused him to begin with and refused to believe his claims of innocence.  Loki had known no one would believe him, especially since Tyr had used enchanted shears to cut her hair.  Loki was certain Tyr hadn’t known their effect on Sif’s hair, but that the strands were now permanently black left Asgard with no doubt as to the culprit. 

                The Midgardian tale of having his lips sewn shut was an exaggeration. His punishment had been a spell that stole his voice for six months and banishment to his rooms.  A punishment that no doubt only angered Sif further.

                The only conclusion he could come to was that she had returned from her task and had been in the closest corridor to the throne room to overhear his conversation with Thor. “Odin was fond of saying that eavesdropping is not a trait for an honorable warrior.”  Usually such things were said to him after he’d been caught doing it.  She didn’t look at him and he sighed softly.  “He used an enchanted blade from what I was able to discover.  The intent was to cut it off, by accident this was the result.”  Sif nodded silently, not looking at him.  Slowly his brow furrowed at her rather uncharacteristic reaction.  “I saw no point in giving you a reason not to trust Tyr.  Not when it would be centuries later that we were finally acknowledged as warriors of Asgard and no longer under his instruction.”

                “Did...”

                Loki could almost hear the question she refused to ask. She and he had been little more than children at the time.  “He admitted to nothing but I suspect he had issue with a female defeating his best and brightest.”

                Her dark eyes glanced at him before flitting away again, her voice soft. “It seemed like a trick you would commit.”

                Loki smirked. “Of course it was.  That was the point so that he wouldn’t be discovered.”  Now she looked at him in surprise and his smirk broadened.  “He is not the only one to do so, though I venture there will be no repeats now.”  He glanced down at his fingernails as he flicked the digits outward.  “I would say half of the tricks I faced judgement for did not originate from me.  But then again half of the tricks I did commit I was never discovered as the culprit.”

                Sif’s tone was still subdued, a small furrow line appeared between her eyebrows. “I would have vexed you less had I known.”

                “As you say…I am fond of antagonizing you.” Her lip quirked the slightest bit in amusement.  His expression became unreadable once more.  “You think I should gift the throne to Thor.”

                Sif didn’t respond right away. As much as it pained her, she still felt the impulse to act to Thor’s benefit.  She thought of all the good that Loki had done in restoring Asgard, actions that Thor might not have had the foresight in ordering.  Thor would have maintained the traditions of Odin and those before him.  Loki demonstrated a willingness to change tradition.  At least Loki had shown he was open to listening to Asgard welcoming women into the ranks.  It gave her hope for a future that she had long ago stopped believing would ever happen.  A possibility that if she were to one day ever marry and have a daughter, that her child would have a choice in her future.  “I think that Thor made his choice.  I also think that…perhaps…Asgard is better for it.”  Loki slowly lifted an eyebrow.  She scowled at him, just for show.  “You’re still an ass.  Sire.”

                Loki bared his teeth in reply.

* * *

 

**_Author's Notes:_ **

_Not much action this time but we had some healthy venting.  :)_

**_Next:_ **

_Thor learns the state of Asgard_


	9. Chapter 9

ASGARD

                Thor stared hard at the double doors that had led to Loki’s rooms.  He supposed since Loki was now king these were his former rooms next to his own.  They were curiously locked but it didn’t seem to be a physical lock.  He knew the wood would yield to Mjolnir but he didn’t want to put Loki in a mood by breaking down his doors.

                “Prince Thor?  Are you alright?”

                Thor turned to regard one of the servants who seemed about to take one of the side corridors to some unknown destination.  He avoided the domestic corridors, as most nobles did, so he wouldn’t get in the way of their work. “Aye.”  She nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement and turned to retreat with a tray in her hands carrying a bottle of something.  “I know you.”

                She dipped her head towards him.  “Anya, Prince Thor.”

                Thor frowned a little.  He knew her name from somewhere and he wasn’t in a habit of remembering the servants.  She wasn’t a late night companion of his, her station alone would make his approaching her highly inappropriate. Then he blinked as he remembered.  “You’re Loki’s servant.”

                She paused before she answered carefully, not looking at him fully.  “We are all Lord Loki’s servants now.”

                He pressed a little more firmly.  “You are his personal servant.”

                Anya turned fully, her words formal and polite as she asked, “Did you need assistance, Prince Thor?”  But there was an impatience in the words she chose.

                Thor felt something in him twist.  She wasn’t the first one to treat him with a careful, distant politeness but it had happened too often since his return to be a coincidence.  But instead of addressing it he asked, “Why are Loki’s rooms locked?”

                “They are no longer his highness’s rooms, Prince Thor.”

                And he was really starting to hate his title, since it seemed to be the only way she would address him.  A reminder of that distance while carefully maintaining a respect of his rank.

                He remained insistent.  “Then he locked them?”

                Anya carefully put down the tray on a table in the corridor and crossed to the doors to brush her fingers against the symbols carved into either side, underneath the door knobs.  “Runes, Prince Thor.  Even a person without a drop of seidr in their blood can utilize runes for protection.  In this instance the runes were placed so that the room remains undisturbed.”

                He stubbornly clung to the question as he would with Loki since his brother in a stubborn mood often only answered exactly what was asked of him.  “This was placed here by Loki?”

                A slightly irritated look crossed her face for the barest of moment before she answered him.  “By me, Prince Thor.”  He gave her a surprised look and she clarified as she stepped back.  “As you have stated I am his highness’s personal servant.  When he was banished to the dungeons I protected his possessions.”  There was an unspoken accusation not even hinted by inflection.  That perhaps she had done what should have been done by someone else.

                Thor frowned heavily as he asked, “Are you suggesting someone would have stolen from him?”

                Her expression returned to one of formal politeness.  “I suggest nothing, Prince Thor.  Is there anything you require?”

                “No--…”

                She nodded briskly and turned to pick up her tray.  “Then good day, Prince Thor.”

                “Wait!”  Anya obediently paused but she didn’t look at him.  Thor was unable to keep either his frustration or his hurt out of his voice as he asked, “Why does everyone hate me?”

                She glanced at him warily.  “Hate is a strong word.”

                He huffed, his emotions all over his expressive face.  “Well they certainly do not like me.”

                Anya blinked silently once before she felt herself relent.  “I cannot speak for others and speaking of my impressions of those above my station is not permitted.”

                He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded his head once, decisive.  “Then I permit it.  Speak as you wish and you will receive no reprimand from me.”

                Anya paused for another moment before turning and folding her hands in front of her body. This was a terrible idea and she was struggling to believe him.  “What would you have me speak concerning?”

                “Why did you lock Loki’s room?”

                She considered her words carefully before replying.  She would never betray a confidence from Loki.  Not that he had truly confided in her but that he allowed her into his personal space spoke of an unspoken trust between them.  “Servants may not speak unless it is requested of us but we have ears and we do hear.  Nor are we noticed by aristocrats.  Even after Lord Loki’s sentence to the dungeons Lord Odin was quite enraged.  He order his highness’s rooms stripped and the contents burned.  But he did not order that **I** do so.”  A shocked look crossed his face.  It wasn’t an act of open disobedience but it was an act that crossed a line.  At the very least she could have been released from her duties.  “A room cannot be emptied if one cannot enter.  The delay was long enough for her ladyship to become involved and she forbid that anyone would enter without Lord Loki’s expressed permission.  Since then none have.”

                Thor chewed on that for a moment.  It honestly hadn’t occurred to him that father would have done such a thing.  That his father could be petty.  His mental image of the noble, golden king that he had looked up to since he was a child became a little more tarnished.  “Why do you not like me?”

                She kept her reply succinct.  “It is not that I do or do not like you, Prince Thor.”

                “By the Norns you twist words as much as Loki does!”

                Anya felt her eyes narrow ever so slightly at Thor’s moaned words.  But she felt herself freeze at a presence almost against her back.  She wasn’t entirely surprised.  Loki had over the years made it his business to ensure that she was treated well.  Loki’s voice whispered in her ear, “Say what you will.  I will not allow him to break his vow if his pride cannot take a bruising.”

                Her confidence bolstered, she spoke, “A noble is just that.  They are a child born to a privileged life.  They receive an education, supported by their family.  Their parents may choose their vocation or they may seek out their own.  But you and Lord Loki are not just nobles, you are princes of the realm.  The privilege that you receive is supported by the people.  You receive the very best of education.  Food.  Shelter.  Clothing.  It is an enchanted life but it is also in preparation for a life of service to the throne.  It was a service that was appointed to yourself by your father.  He deemed you worthy of that burden.  But you chose a different path.  You chose to turn away from that burden.”

                “Aye.”

                Her jaw tightened a little. “To serve can also mean more than just ruling. With your skills as a warrior you would have made a fine general, skills taught to you with the support of the people.  But you did not even choose to serve in that capacity.”  Her eyes dropped for just a moment so he wouldn’t see the fire flashing there but there was no keeping it out of her voice.  “Instead of repaying the citizens for the sacrifices they made for you, you turned your back on Asgard.  You spit on the shoes of her citizens with your actions.  With deed you said quite clearly that we were not worthy of you.  You turned to the life of a rogue warrior, and left to fight for a realm and a people not your own.”  Now she looked up, her professional mask firmly back in place.  “It is not a question of if you are liked, Prince Thor, and I will not speak for anyone else save myself.  I no longer respect you.”

                “I thank you for your words.”  Thor said this as a formal thanks but his face looked as if he had just put something particularly sour in his mouth.  “Do you know if the warriors 3 or Sif still maintain their prior dwellings?”

                Anya found this much easier to focus on, her anger cooling.  “They each have been appointed suites within the palace.  The corridor to the right will take you to the wing.  The attendant will be able to direct you accordingly, Prince Thor.”

                When he didn’t say anything further she turned to retrieve her tray, but still felt Loki’s presence nearby.  Thor’s quiet question shocked her, and she felt Loki freeze as well.  “Can I ever earn back that respect?”

                “That, prince, is up to you.”  She picked up her tray, taking her time to think carefully.  “I respected a man who fought for Asgard.  I respected a man who I thought took his duties as prince seriously.  But a prince is more than just a man awaiting a throne, he is an extension of the king…and sometimes a new king needs support.”  Anya felt Loki huff behind her and fought not to grin, knowing the annoyed/exasperated expression that would be on his face.  “Were we to see a return of that man, respect would follow.” 

* * *

                Thor had decided to follow Loki’s advice and sought out his friends to gain the rest of the story of what happened.  He was pleasantly surprised to be directed to a wing where the warriors had been given their own suites at Loki’s orders.  The door opened smoothly, the blond warrior on the other side surprised as to the identity of his visitor.

                “Fandral.”  Thor held out his arm, fingers extended, in greeting.  It was only the slightest of hesitations before the greeting was returned but Thor noted it.

                The adventurer nodded with a smile, but it wasn’t the freely given expression of friendship it used to be. “Thor.”

                They both let their arms fall to their sides, Thor asking with all sincerity. “How do you fair?”

                Fandral tilted his head to invite Thor inward, moving to a long, narrow table that held an assortment of mead and wines.  “Quite well.  Our king is most generous.”

                There were a series of chairs and benches surrounding the extinguished fire place, Hogun and Volstagg already seated. Thor took the offered mead with a nod of thanks as he found his own seat.  Nods of greeting to the others were exchanged, he looking over the warriors he had called friends for most of his life.

                “How is Asgard?  Truly?”

                No paranoid or secretive looks were exchanged.  There was a tension in the air, but it was partly due to the recent attack.  The rest he suspected had to do with his presence.  Volstagg was the one who replied from his seat.  “Surprisingly in good hands.”

                Thor slowly released the breath he hadn’t even been aware he’d been holding.  He knew that Loki had the potential for greatness but he’d been worried all the same.  In the right mood, Loki was brilliant and his leadership flawless.  In the wrong mood…

                “Then he is holding the mantle properly.”

                Hogun lifted the mug in his hand slightly as if to toast in agreement with Thor.  Fandral took his time sitting down and sighing before speaking quietly, not quite looking at Thor.  “Far be it for me to say anything negative concerning your departed father so I will say…Asgard has been waiting a long time for someone like your brother.”

                He hadn’t gone directly to his friends.  He’d decided to look around, to see things for himself.  He’d been to the Hall of the Dead to see his parent’s names etched in stone.  He’d been to the private gardens to see the memorials that Loki had erected in their memory.  It wasn’t the same and he felt heart sore by missing his father’s ceremony as he was sure Loki felt for their mother.  Still, he did find a bit of peace in seeing them.

                But he’d also looked beyond the palace.  There was no remaining damage caused by the dark elves.  Even with the fire damage he could see the difference in the structures, but it was the people he’d noticed the most drastic change.  Men had their heads held higher.  Women weren’t hovering over their children.  There was a wariness, but he knew if he’d come here on a better day he would have been pleased by what he saw.  “He has done all of this in less than a year?”

                “Six month in truth.”  Thor gave Volstagg a surprised look.  “This wasn’t a good day for you to come back.  Not that we do not welcome your aid.  You missed an Asgard restored.”

                Thor still felt a pang of hurt but knew there wasn’t anything he could do with his regret.  The past was as it was, he could only move forward at this point.  So his thoughts shifted to Sif’s rather cool reception and even the subdued reactions of the men around him.  “Why do I feel Sif is angry with me?”

                Fandral’s mustache twitched as he grimaced.  The other men all studied their mead but he decided to answer the thunderer.  “Probably because she is angry with you.”

                Confusion crossed Thor’s face, his blue eyes hiding a twinge of pain.  “Why?  I was gone less than a year.  We’ve gone on journeys longer than this.”

                “You know how women are-…”

                Hogun interrupted the younger man.  “Tell him the truth, Fandral.  Tell him the anger stems from his abandoning us for a mortal world.”

                Thor studied his mead, brow furrowed as he tried to justify himself.  “They were in need of my aid.”

                “So were we.”

                That paused Thor, his mouth slowly forming a grim line.  Hogun was not a vocal man and even when he chose to speak, rarely was there much inflection in his voice.  But he heard the passionate flicker in the grim warrior’s tone.  “Tell me what happened, my friends.”

                Sif pushed open the door and strode in, standing tall and letting the door slam behind her.  She’d heard everything and was certainly ready to share her opinion.  “Are you certain you wish to know?”

                Thor stood up at Sif’s entrance, his mead on the table. Now he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded slowly. “Aye.”

                Sif didn’t veer her gaze from Thor, raising a halting hand slightly in Fandral’s direction when the warrior rose to get her a drink. “Your father succumbed less than two weeks after your departure from Asgard.”  There was a hint of sorrow to her tone, regret in her eyes.  “In front of us, court, and your brother he passed on to Valhalla and had Loki not been there Asgard would have no king.”  Now a growl wove through her words as the possible horrors were spoken aloud.  “The commoners would have rebelled, the warriors would have retaliated as the nobles scrambled to find a suitable candidate.  The realm would have been thrown into civil war.  Do you truly believe we could have survived that?  Asgard would have torn itself apart while you went back to flirting with your mortal whore.”

                Thor stiffened with a jerk, snarling at such a slander aimed at Jane Foster.  “Mind your tongue-…”

                Sif interrupted him heatedly and perversely relished in saying this.  “I will not.  I never have and I never will.  My king has given me full leave to speak freely and I shall exercise that allowance to its fullest.”

                He snarled at her, “You are not speaking to Loki.”

                She retorted sharply, “You are right. I am not and his authority supersedes your own.”  Thor’s jaw slowly clenched but he didn’t interrupt her in return.  Instead he listened.  “You left us while we had barely begun to pick up the pieces.  Our defenses were damaged, not to mention the injured and the dead.  Loki fixed matters.  Not even days into his ascension and he organized restoration.  Aid.  Temporary shelter and food for those in need.  The guards were assessed and those that had held their positions for too long were given honorable leave.  He has done more to strengthen Asgard’s might in one year than your father did in a millennia.”

                The other warriors widened their eyes that Sif would dare to openly give her criticism to a king, dead or otherwise, voice.  She certainly didn’t look regretful in speaking her mind, still standing tall and leaning slightly forward as she glared at Thor.

                Thor listened to everything she said, but there was more and he knew whatever it was, was a personal matter to her.  “And what of you, Sif?  What is your grievance?”

                Her dark eyes flashed.  “Is that not enough?”

                “More than just this vexes you.”

                Storming the distance between them, both of her fists clenched and her arms shaking in an effort to restrain herself from punching him as she yelled, “We followed you!  We risked our honor and our lives so that you could smuggle your mortal out and then you left us to pick up the pieces.”

                “You understood--…”

                Sif cut him off quickly, “We were not hired soldiers, we were your friends.  You owed us more than to leave us to our fate.”  Thor blinked, hearing the tense of her words. **Were** friends.  But she wasn’t through.  “Heimdall was thrown in the dungeons, a sentence Loki was gracious enough to rescind.  We, all of us, could have been branded as traitors and executed.  Or banished.”

                Thor spoke softly, “If you had been banished to Midgard I would have come for you.”

                Which certainly didn’t reassure her if the sentence had been death.  “How can I truly believe that when you didn’t even maintain the bonds of friendship on Asgard?”  Thor flinched ever so slightly.  That one hurt.  “You have no idea how much it galls me to admit that Loki has seen more to our wellbeing than you have this past year.”

                The thunderer took his time before saying anything.  He remembered this side of Sif.  She was a naturally outspoken woman, but in certain circumstances she was very defensive.  It was that she was so defensive of Loki that seemed almost out of character.  Then the reason occurred to him and he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “Thank you, Sif.”  Sif blinked in surprise but could detect no deception in Thor’s tone.  A second later she felt shock that she was even searching for it.  Thor continued on, oblivious to her inner thoughts as he turned his attention to the others. “Thank you all for being his friends.”

                Sif kept her jaw tightened stubbornly.  “I do not embrace friendship with him for you.”

                His smile couldn’t help but grow, pleased.  “I know.”  Then he sobered before admitting to them, “And I admit that my priorities have not been where they should be and for that you all have my sincerest apologies.”

                A wry grin twisted Fandral’s lips as he moved back to the bar and pulled out a tray.  None of them were ready to extend the hand of friendship so quickly.  But they were warriors of Asgard.  They could be civil to one another in light of the current circumstances.  A few moments later he returned and claimed a bench as he laid out more drinks for everyone else.  “I believe your brother considers us his minions, little more.”  Chuckles were exchanged, Sif loosening up enough to claim a tankard for herself.

                Thor just continued to smile and chose not to respond as he picked up his own mead.  Loki was not a patient man but he was shrewd.  Giving them guest quarters in the palace made sense.  It kept them in easy reach while he was accomplishing repairs.  But Loki had not only utilized their skills to restore Asgard but invited them to live here in permanent suites.  Whether it was said or not these were people his brother considered friends.

                Once they all sat back down Volstagg glanced at Sif and asked the important question. “Have we more grievances to air?”

                She sighed forcefully. Protecting Asgard was more important than bruised emotions.  “Not that cannot be delayed until after this threat to Asgard is resolved.”

                “Then to the important question: are we to go to war?”

                Thor was the one who answered with a slight nod.  “I believe it is so.  We merely have to find the coward who attacks us from afar.”

                “Assuming that is agreeable with the war council.”  It wasn’t the way that Sif had spoken, it was the grim reactions of the others that caught his attention.  Not everyone had accepted Loki ascension with grace and the warriors of the war council made up the majority of the dissention.  So Thor listened as the true state of Asgard was revealed to him.

* * *

                Loki barely even glanced behind him as he heard Anya fussing over something.  After a thousand years her presence in his chambers during certain times of day had become expected background noise.  The fact that these were his new quarters and not his childhood rooms made little difference.

                But today was different.  The time was becoming critical and Asgard’s end an assurity.  If there was one reason not to let this realm crumble, it was her.  He turned to regard her as she took a light rag to a surface that didn’t require dusting.  “If I told you to do something, would you do so?”

                She didn’t even glance at him, answering him honestly.  “Of course.”

                He slowly lifted a single eyebrow as he asked, “Even if my request was to do something ridiculous?  Something unheard of?”

                Now she glanced up and paused in her work.  “You have but to ask, sire.”

                He glared at her mildly but she didn’t look apologetic for using a term to respect his rank.  He had been insisting for centuries that he didn’t want her using formal addresses around him.  It was an insistence she had yet to agree to.  “What if I were to order you to Alfheim?”

                She folded her hand in front of her.  It was completely unheard of.  Commoners without distinction didn’t travel to the other realms.  They could be promoted to a different status or accompany their lord/lady in a domestic capacity.  But they didn’t travel on their own, which was what he was proposing.  She pondered his question for a moment, before responding with sincerity, “I would ask what you would need me to do while I was there.”

                “…why?”  She frowned ever so slightly at his question but he seemed completely mystified.  But he also didn’t hesitate to complete the thought.  “Why would you follow me so…blindly?”

                She made a scoffing noise and went over to nudge one of his books back into place on the shelf.  “I am not blind, I am simply returning the trust granted to me.”

                “What trust?”

                After a moment she turned.  “When you were little, it was rare that you allowed anyone to hold you.  Only your mother and I were allowed to do so without restriction.”

                The current expression on his face required no translation.  It seemed to scream ‘idiot’.  “So because of the whims of an infant you will trust the decisions I make as a man and a king?”

                She waved a hand around his room.  “Even as you grew you still chose me to continue to service your rooms.  Not even you father--…”

                “He is NOT my father!”  It was quite the undignified roar and it instantly silenced her.

                If she was surprised at the vehemence of his reaction it didn’t last long because understanding soon crept over her face.  “I gather by your anger that you discovered this, as opposed to being told.”

                Loki felt his stomach drop.  “You **knew**??”

                She shrugged her shoulders the tiniest bit.  “When you were quite young if the room was too cold you turned Jötunn blue.”  She watched him pale an instant before he flushed red and his eyes sparked with the power of his magic as his ire grew.  She calmly explained, knowing he perceived her silence as a betrayal, “I was forbidden to make mention of it by both the king and queen.  A servant does not have the luxury of direct defiance…unless they do not wish to remain living.”

                He turned so his back was to her.  He couldn’t even look at her, nor understand how she could look at him with anything other than disgust.  “Your king is a monster and you would still follow his commands?”

                An angry look crossed her face before she stormed the distance between them.  He heard her and backed up a step reflexively.  She stopped suddenly at his retreat and though she wanted to reach out and shake him she clenched her fists to resist in impulse.  “You are not a monster.”  For the first time she realized just how vulnerable he looked.  It was as if all the barriers between them had been torn down and she was looking at a lost, wounded boy instead of a man.  She softened her voice and spoke with finality.  “You’re.  Not.  I would not obey the slightest whim of a monster.”

                He shook his head, adamant, “It’s what I am.”

                Anya really felt like rolling her eyes. She didn’t but the impulse was strong. “Being a monster isn’t a birthright…it’s a choice.”

                “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

                He looked so doubtful she lost complete control over her temper and her tongue. “Your mother—yes she was!  Stop being an imbecile.”  His mouth had parted to deny that fact but he snapped it shut again.  “Your mother would never raise nor love a monster.  She was a beautiful person, an honorable warrior, and she loved you dearly.  You were her pride and joy from the beginning.”  She smiled slightly.  “If I were to say that I perceived you to be her favorite it would not be a lie.”

                He hunched a little.  “And what of Odin?  He raised a Jötunn pet to make his first born appear better before the eyes of Asgard in comparison.  Or to raise me to assume kingship over Jötunheim…I’ve yet to decide which is more likely.”

                Now Anya rolled her eyes and made a big enough production of it that she saw his lips twitch.  “If he did so and _settled_ when your brother failed to assume the throne then that’s his loss.  It’s no reflection of your worth but of his capacity as a…fool…”  Anya grimaced as if suddenly remembering herself.

                But Loki reacted better than she’d hoped.  He took one look at her face, her words still echoing in his head, and burst out laughing.  It was a far too short-lived reaction but it broke the serious atmosphere that had settled around them.  He also noted the surprise that crossed her face.  “I’ve told you for centuries, I prefer you to speak your mind.” 

                “Perhaps someday I will do so.”

                Loki sighed softly. “Perhaps one day I will not see myself as the monster I believe I am.”  He pulled himself together, his tone effecting an official air to it.  “I will be traveling to Muspelheim soon.  You will accompany us to the Bi-Frost to travel to Alfheim.”

                She curtseyed, but there was no denying the excitement in her eyes. “Your will.”  He ever so slightly wrinkled his nose at her.

* * *

 

**_Author's Notes:_ **

_The holidays are all over with so I thought a little treat was in order.  Not true Thor bashing but certainly a good slap upside the head._

  ** _Next:_ **

_The case of the missing message;  The war council_


	10. Chapter 10

HELHEIM

                The throne room of Helheim was relatively empty.  It wouldn’t be once something of true interest started to occur among the living.  Until then images would continue to move as long as Hela wished it.

                Farbauti frowned thoughtfully as she watched the image of a rather ordinary woman come into view.  She had lived her entire life on Jötunheim but with death she had been exposed to the other races.  She would think her AEsir or Vanir, and from her dress would place her as a commoner from Asgard.  Yet Hela was watching her with seeming interest.  “Why do you watch her?” 

                Hela leaned back on her throne, her eyes flicking to Farbauti before returning to the images. “She is known to me.”

                Her frown deepened. “She is but a servant.”

                A touch of amusement touched Hela’s lips, her eyes not veering as she watched Anya fold a few casual items into a satchel in preparation for her journey.  “Indeed she is.  As predictable a creature as any of them.  She is a commoner and is satisfied with that rank.”

                “Then why would you watch her?”  Farbauti took a step closer, repeating what Hela had said before.  “I thought only those that were interesting were known to you…or those that will enter your kingdom.”

                “Not all of them.  Sometimes I watch those because of their interactions with others.”  Hela’s eyes went distant for a moment.  “She will be sent to Alfheim.”  Farbauti still looked confused so Hela clarified.  “By your son.”  Farbauti may not have had the honor of raising him but she had not willingly abandoned her child and Hela was mindful of that.

                “Why?”

                Hela looked amused again.  “I considered that.”  Her head tilted a little as she reflected on such a seemingly small act.  “The rage began with Odin’s lies that Loki took as a betrayal.  The loss of the woman who raised him as mother has sustained him this long and will continue long enough to see Asgard burn.  He is so blinded by that rage he would see warrior and denizen alike consumed…yet he has seemingly spared her.”

                Farbauti also knew enough about the fire demon that the death of one realm would hardly satisfy him.  Surtur would continue until there was nothing left of the other realms.  “With Surtur involved it will not be for long.”

                “No.  Surtur will not stop with Asgard.  He craves dominion over all the nine.  Vanaheim and then Alfheim would fall under his hand.  But if such events occur after Loki is dead he won’t care.”  Now Hela turned her attention to Farbauti and asked a question she already knew the answer to, “Do you feel truly vested in the actions of the living?”

                “No.”

                The Helheim queen inclined her head to indicate she was speaking of Loki. “He was dead long enough to be aware of how distant the cares of the living become.  He is focused on a moment and an outcome that will lead to no regret.”

                “Then why would he even bother with her?”

                That spark of amusement returned to Hela’s eyes as she glanced at the image of Anya again before letting the images fade to black.  “I’ve watched this boy the whole of his life.  I believe I know him best, but even then he still manages to surprise me.  He is sending her away because she is one of the few that he would spare Asgard for.”

                Farbauti blinked in surprise.  She had been certain that Loki wouldn’t stop now.  He would either succeed or someone would have to stop him.  “Who else?  He doesn’t seem to trust any of them.”

                Idly Hela glanced at her fingers.  “He has an affection for those warriors he surrounds himself with but he won’t stop for them.  Of any of them, his brother is the only one with any influence.”  Then an evil grin formed.  “But it matters not.  It’s too late.  Soon the ground will shake.  Soon all the AEsir will feel the end as it approaches.”

* * *

ASGARD

                It was such a little thing. A flick of Loki’s finger produced a delicate wisp of green magic and the burn marks on the stone disappeared.  Yet even with those blemishes gone Loki couldn’t help but stare at the spot.  His throat felt dry and constricted, his palms clammy, but he couldn’t figure out why as he panted softly.

                Closing his eyes was perhaps one of the most difficult tasks he’d undertaken, opening them again while lifting his gaze so that he wasn’t looking at the blemish that was no longer there on his mother’s fountain. His green eyes flicked this way and that, taking in every aspect of the fountain in the late afternoon sunlight as if he’d never seen it before.  His brow slowly furrowed, barely suppressing a shudder.

               The mark was a reminder of what was going to happen.

               Could he do this to the realm that was once home? Could he do this to his mother’s people?  No, that wasn’t the question anymore.  It was already happening.  Was he truly going to let this happen was the question?  Was he going to allow the AEsir to fall and Asgard to be destroyed?  But as soon as the question penetrated his jaw clenched and his eyes flared as that familiar rage reawakened.  The question became easy to answer.  It was the reason he was looking at a fountain and not her lovely face.  Yes, Asgard had failed her and he could do this.

                He bared his teeth in the mockery of a smile and strode back into the palace.  It was almost time to put the war council through their paces.  Once they were seen to he would journey to Muspelheim, never to see Asgard again.  There was just one small matter to take care of first.

* * *

                Loki waited with his arms folded loosely behind his back.  He didn’t turn his head as a soldier was admitted into the expansive room, his gaze focused on the maps that were strewn about the table of the different realms.  It was the circular war room, where few were admitted entrance.  There were seats on three sides for lengthy discussion with the king’s place directly opposite the door.

                He had called for a hearing of the war council, but that was still minutes away. Right now he would have a question answered of why Thor didn’t receive his message concerning Odin’s death.  Perhaps it was just a mistake.  Perhaps the letter had been somehow lost.  But he suspected it had been intentional.

                He’d already summoned the messenger who had been responsible for all correspondence. Now he was summoning the soldier who had been responsible for transporting official messages from the palace.  He turned to give the other man a quick glance and found himself frowning with familiarity.  “I know you.”

                The soldier clenched his fist at his heart and bowed deeply, more so than was required.  No, not a soldier, judging by his armor and formality.  “Your majesty.”

                It took Loki a moment before it suddenly came to him.  “You were one of the dungeon guards.”

                There were ranks within the ranks.  The least skilled were guards along the outer posts.  Those with skill but considered average in ability with no political pull were placed in the dungeons or walked the inner streets of Asgard.  The man stood a little taller.  “I have a rotation down there, yes, sire.”

                This was the man who had told him his mother had died.  Loki’s mind couldn’t help tripping down that day without his permission.  The guard hadn’t looked at him at the time, the words spoken softly and with great care.  Loki couldn’t stop himself from asking, needing to know the response. “Were you ordered to inform me by my predecessor?”

                The guard needed no clarification to know what the question meant.  “I-I took the initiative.”  Loki narrowed his eyes slightly.  Not a complete lie, but not the complete truth either.  No doubt Odin had said something to the effect of ‘inform the people’.  This one just decided to use the loose phrasing to lump Loki within that command.

 _Clever_. A gesture that Loki appreciated, in all honesty.  To learn of her death had been crushing.  To never know of it at all until Thor appeared would have killed him.  Or Thor would have said something unforgiveable and he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from trying to kill the thunderer.  Which reminded him of another action this man took the initiative on without prompting.  “Yes, you seem to be taking a lot of initiative lately.”  Loki lifted an eyebrow, affecting a more official tone.  “It is not for you to decide for your king.  If I seal a missive, to my brother or anyone else, I expect it to reach its destination.”

                The guard bowed immediately, this time appropriately.  “It will not happen again, sire.”

                Instead of giving the man his leave, Loki turned his head slightly and asked softly, “Why did you?”

                The man seemed to weigh his words carefully before responding, which was not a typical reaction for an AEsir.  But then a guard who didn’t follow orders blindly was not a typical AEsir either.  “For the former I found…dishonor in the truth being kept from you.”

                Loki raised an eyebrow as he turned fully. “And the latter?”

                The guard was careful to keep his gaze averted. “The elder son of King Odin was just as capable as I in sparing two minutes of his valuable time.”

                A very distinct way to phrase a reply.  Thor may have abdicated the throne but he had still earned the title of prince just as Loki once had.  That this guard would skip it spoke volumes. _Not so popular as you once were, eh brother?_ Loki tilted his head slightly in curiosity as he asked, “What is your name?”

                The guard dipped his head respectfully. “Hunther Arvidson, sire.”

                Loki felt amusement curl the corner of his mouth and he relished the feeling.  It had been so long since he had felt a positive emotion that wasn’t tangled with something ugly. “Do you have ambition, Hunther?”

                Hunther stood up straight once more, eyes forward to stare at the far wall. “Of course, sire.”

                He knew it wasn’t before he even asked but it was a question that had to be asked.  “And is your current posting your desired vocation?”

                The other man’s light eyebrows furrowed slightly, hinting to displeasure.  “No, sire.”

                Loki felt his lip twitch traitorously again.  If this man needed a little political backing it was the least he could offer.  “I will speak with Tyr.  You will be reposted to an interior guard of the throne room.”

                Now Hunther’s blue eyes met his own green orbs as his smirk grew.  A promotion, to put it mildly.  Hunther’s words were sincere.  “Thank you, sire.”

                “Remember, Hunther, I appreciate ambition…but do not let it consume you.”  Something dark filled Loki’s green eyes as his thoughts turned to his own past.  To an act and a gesture that had led to her death.  “Some actions cannot be taken back.”  And if it were possible he would move all of creation to take it back. _Unless_ …

                He shoved the vile thought away.  The infinity gems assembled in the gauntlet would be the way.  But that was not his plan, nor would he divert.  He was set on a course for death that would send him to Valhalla to be with her.  He would not allow himself to alter that course now.  What he was doing for Hunther would settle the debt between them, even if there wouldn’t be an Asgard remaining for very long for the other man to enjoy it.

                The doors behind them opened, admitting the war council and Loki gave Hunther his leave with a gesture.  Hunther responded with a low bow of respect before retreating.

                Loki didn’t watch Hunther leave, his eyes focused on the men entering.  Three dozen men with various ranks, various strengths in battle.  He wasn’t focused on the others, he was focused on Tyr.  Of any of them, Tyr was the one who held the most sway over the others.  He didn’t wait for anyone to settle into their seats or to open with pleasantries, waiting just long enough for the doors to close.  “Asgard must prepare for war.”

                Tyr looked almost thoughtful, the warrior not nearly as old as Odin but holding a certain similar feel to him.  There were some rumors that Tyr was an illegitimate son of Odin but it wasn’t true.  The pair of them had simply worked well today both on and off the battlefield.

                There was no denying there was a certain pleasure in the older warrior’s eyes as he spoke, which Loki silently took note of, “Sire, perhaps you are not familiar with protocol--…”

                Loki cut him off effortlessly, not about to be talked down to even if the other man was trying to hide his true intent. “I am quite familiar, General Tyr.  What transpired today was a formal declaration.  We are at war so there is no debate.  Retaliation is our current recourse, we simply must determine our target.”

                There were soft murmurs but the majority were focused on Tyr, waiting for his response.  “There could be any--…”

                Odin would thump Gungnir to end the debate and used gruff might to force his point across.  But he was Loki and that wasn’t his way.  His tone was almost dismissive, but he let his Silvertongue work.  They may all wish to dismiss his power and control but it was hard to dismiss what the gatekeeper saw lightly.  “There is not.  Heimdall sees matters which concern him on Muspelheim.  We are to determine if that is where our cowardly enemy has chosen to hide and if so…smite him.”

                Tyr was by nature a tactician and considered one of the best.  He didn’t follow orders lightly and he only did so from men he respected.  Loki knew from the start he was going to have the most difficult time with Tyr considering their animosity for one another.  Tyr had respected Odin and wouldn’t hesitate to follow any order no matter how ridiculous it sounded.  For Loki, even reasonable requests were met with resistance and questioned.  “We cannot form ranks and charge to this realm without assurity of who we are dealing with.  We leave the realm eternal exposed if we are in error.”  He spoke with an air of finality, as it he had the authority to overrule a king’s decree.

                There were murmurs of agreement, the men nodding as one.  The only reason Loki maintained his temper was because of the grim satisfaction he gained picturing all of these men dead with their brain matter decorating the walls.

                A new voice caused heads to turn as Thor pushed open the double doors without pausing to consider if he was invited.  The guards on the outside looked in with a questioning look.  Loki made a dismissive gesture to them silently as the thunderer focused on Tyr, a grim set to his jaw as he asked.  “You would question the judgement of your king, General Tyr?”

                The warriors looked between the two brothers but when nothing was said by Loki, Tyr focused his response on the elder brother.  In line of succession or not, Thor had never lost his title as prince.  It was also obvious that Tyr had more respect for Thor than Loki.  “I do not question, Prince, I seek clarification.”  Loki lifted an eyebrow.  That certainly wasn’t what he’d been hearing.

                Thor didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Tyr.  “Then your choice of words leaves much to be desired.”

                Tyr’s eyes flicked back and forth from the pair of them in surprise.  “I offer my sincerest apologies, my lord, if my words offended or overstepped my position.”

                The statement may have been offered in Loki’s direction but Thor was the one who responded. “Your words succeeded on both counts.  I have removed myself from the line of succession but never doubt that I will defend Asgard and my king.”

                Loki silently studied Thor, green eyes hooded and expression an impenetrable mask.  The man he had known for a thousand years was a leader, not a follower.  He was the son of a king, raised and trained to rule.  He was encouraged to be arrogant, ambitious, and ruthless.  Loki had expected Thor to do something by now to inspire dissention in the ranks that would make himself look more favorable.  He hadn’t expected the thunderer to throw his support behind his being king. 

                The trickster shook himself of his contemplation. Why didn’t matter.  All that mattered was success.  “What I propose is this: a small band will determine if Muspelheim is our target.  While doing so, you will see that the warriors are ready.”

                “They are--…”

                Loki cut Tyr off, ticking each distinction in the warrior ranks with a finger.  The primary ranks were ready to go at a moment’s notice, but technically there were three levels.  “Primary.  Secondary…and tertiary.”  That froze the warriors, all of them with surprise in their eyes.  Even Thor glanced at him.  It wasn’t unheard of for all the warriors to be called into action but it was exceptionally rare.  The tertiary were those that weren’t formally accepted warriors but they were close enough in their training that in a time of great need they could be called upon.  Only once before had the need been so great that even those in that transitional age had been readied. “Yes.  Every warrior, General Tyr, even those in their last years of training before gaining formal acceptance.  All warriors are to be armed and ready.”

                Now that they were listening his words set a grim tone to the room.  He held Thor’s support, a man who had always been highly respected for his battle skills.  As far as the rest was concerned, the discussion was concluded. “What do you suspect, sire?”

                “I suspect that Surtur has woken from his long sleep…but I want assurity that I am correct--…”  Loki trailed off as the ground under his feet, under all their feet, started to shake.  It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen when he was upset but this hadn’t been prompted by him.  His head turned to look in the direction of the snow-capped mountains beyond the pine forest.  The two crows who had acted as Odin’s spies all these years, Muninn and Huginn, cawed and flew through the room.  Going through the motions, he’d sent them to Muspelheim to confirm what he already knew.  Loki slowly lifted an eyebrow, able to understand them now that they were considered his spies as king. “Indeed.”  The men all turned to him. “We travelling to Muspelheim is merely a formality.  It has been confirmed.  Surtur awakes.”

                Eyes widened, a subtle variety of color amongst those present but the dominant color was blue.  Tyr set aside his ego and dislike for Loki and addressed his king. “Sire…”

                “I remember the old tales of Alfheim, the devastation of the uninhabitable regions of Vanaheim.  The ground will quake for three days before the mountains will erupt, spewing fire and death on those too near…do you truly want to delay until I am proven right?”  There was no more dissention.  No more hesitation and Loki nodded slightly. “Ready the men.  I will travel with a small group to determine if he may be simply put back into his grave.  If not Heimdall will be notified and Asgard’s survival will depend on your success.”

                Thor looked as if he might object, but he swallowed what he had been about to say.  He couldn’t stop Loki, and any objection he offered would only weaken his brother’s position.  Instead he vowed that whether Loki like it or not, he would be accompanying him.

* * *

HELHEIM

                The throne room may have been sparsely occupied but no longer.  Now all sorts of creatures were crowded in the space to see what was happening.  All the dead had felt Surtur stir the realm of Asgard, turning peaceful mountains into eminent volcanos.  Odin was dead but a short time in comparison to those surrounding him and had the strength to force himself to the front.  Not that any of the dead were foolish enough to obstruct Hela’s view.

                “He cannot know of the destruction he is calling down on Asgard…”

                Hela slowly lifted an eyebrow at Odin’s words to himself, his eye glued to what was going on.  She disagreed.  Loki knew exactly what he was doing.  It amazed her that Odin still didn’t understand the nature of the boy he had brought back from Jötunheim.  She doubted he would ever understand.

                The boy that he did understand was Thor.  The thunderer was quick to anger and did so often.  His rage was like a spring storm.  Powerful but brief.  It was a rage that fizzled and died quickly.  Loki was quite a different creature and much more dangerous because of it.  His rage was a slow burn.  It took time to develop it, time that could be spent dousing it, which is why he could remain so cool and calm so much longer than his brother.  But once that rage had hit the crisis point and exploded, there was no turning back.  It would burn much brighter and much longer than Thor’s was capable.

                A rage that could see him through the destruction of Asgard and even Thor’s death.  It didn’t mean that he wouldn’t regret once the rage was no longer goading him.  But then again his rage was so great that he had no intention of surviving to worry about the aftermath.

                Hela grinned slowly.  Cruelly.  It would take three days for the mountains of Asgard to turn into volcanos.  She was quite positive Loki would take the long way to Surtur’s holding cell.  By the time they arrived to find Surtur free, there would be little to nothing left of Asgard.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_We're about to move on to a rather hot local...and no, not the Bahamas._

_**Next:** _

_Old friends have a chat; Anya meets the queen of Alfheim_


	11. Chapter 11

MUSPELHEIM

                It was a group of the usual suspects.  Sif and the warriors three had been ready to go moments after they received the summons.  Loki had entertained the thought of leaving Thor behind but his plans were thwarted.  The thunderer had been waiting for them next to Heimdall at the Bi-frost with his arms crossed and a stubborn set to his jaw. 

                With a sigh Loki had dismissed the thought of trying to convince him to the contrary. He’d simply turned to Heimdall to relay their destination as well as Anya’s, who had silently accompanied them.

                They landed on Muspelheim some distance from the cave.  The fiery planet rotated so slowly they couldn’t afford to wait for a more favorable spot to land.  It had been a long, hot journey and no one was in a very good mood.  They were all camped out under an alcove, the heat an uncomfortable constant between the cracks along the ground that bled magma and the mountains that were lit in eternal flames.  Instead of huddling around a campfire, at the center of their campsite Loki had conjured a blue flame that emitted cold air.  It was an ingenious creation if he did say so himself.

                He spread out the map for them all to see, keeping the parchment hovering above the ground to avoid it catching on fire.  “We should be entering the caverns just over that ridge by midday.”  What he didn’t tell them about was the river of fire just over that ridge.  There were ways to cross it easily, but it wasn’t an obvious bridge unless one knew what to look for.  He was counting on that delay to seal Asgard’s fate.  There was a possibility in desperation Thor would use Mjolnir to hurl himself over the divide but not even the God of Thunder could carry all of them.  It would require multiple trips and a further delay, regardless of the outcome.

                Thor was frowning thoughtfully at the map, his blue eyes moving from it to the ridge in the far distance.  “Do you know what we will find?”

                Loki was tempted to roll his eyes.  Nothing in the archives nor anywhere else held any information.  His knowledge stopped at the cave entrance and no one from Asgard had been here searching for Surtur since the fire demon had been confined all those thousands of years ago.  But it was a fact that few AEsir would know so instead of snapping Loki grasped for patience with both hands.  “The map only indicates the entrance, not what lies within.”

                Thor nodded as if he had known the response, looking over the other warriors and authority in his tone.  “Then you will remain here while we scout ahead.”

                “Try to keep in mind who is king and who is not.”  Loki lifted a single eyebrow, his tone dry.

                Thor’s jaw was set to control his temper since he was trying to not start an argument. “I am well aware, brother.”

                “Then allow me to plan our strategy.”

                Sif interjected between the pair of them, asking, “What is our strategy?”

                Thor glanced at her and Loki gestured loosely at their surroundings. “We are running short of time.  Your method shows prudence but we have not the time for it.  We will all go at first light.”  Thor’s mouth moved as if to protest before his lips pressed together tightly and he nodded stiffly once.  Loki huffed and shook his head.  “You so obviously wish to lead, why give up the crown?”

                Sadness flickered in Thor’s blue eyes as he replied. “Because of what lusting for the throne did to you.”

                Loki’s face went blank as he asked, “Meaning?”

                Thor made a gesture to encompass Loki from head to toe.  “Look at what happened to you, Loki.  Brother I do not recognize you…”

                Loki started laughing.  Loudly.  Not as deranged as he was capable but it was still an uncomfortable sound.  Not the light, melodious sound from his youth but something much darker and filled with bitterness.

                The warriors all stiffened, but it was Sif who was bold enough to ask with concern in her voice, “Sire?”

                Loki ignored her, shaking his head as he gave Thor an incredulous look. “Recognize me?  You never knew me, favored son.”

                “Brother, we have--…”

                The trickster cut the thunderer off effortlessly, completing the predictable response. “Had a thousand years together.”

                Thor nodded firmly in agreement. “Aye. We sat next to one another in the dining hall, trained under the same arms master.”  Sif flinched at the mention of Tyr but kept her peace.  “You have accompanied us on every adventure since you came of age.  We fought in the same battles.  How can you say I knew you not?”

                Loki’s green eyes narrowed, his body stiffening and speaking carefully. “This is not a conversation you wish to have, Thor.” His words were laced with warning, his eyes not moving from Thor’s.

                Thor felt everything inside of him clench as he struggled to hold on to the last tattered shreds of memories of their shared childhood.  The perfect image in his mind had already been cracked and torn by the revelation of Loki’s perspective of Asgard in comparison to his own.  But he’d desperately clung to the belief that **he** hadn’t wronged Loki as severely as the rest. “Brother I would know of these imagined slights so that they might be dealt with.”

                The words were similar to the ones from Midgard, right before Loki used the Destroyer without thinking clearly in a fit of renewed rage. Poorly chosen words that almost guaranteed to get a reaction even if Thor still didn’t realize why.  Loki loosened his control over his barbed tongue but kept a stranglehold over his temper as he gently refolded the map and sent it into magical storage.  “Ah yes, of course.  Because if you did not experience them then of course they did not occur.  Very well, let us discuss my _imagined_ musings.  We will start with my place at your side during meals.  I remember quite clearly losing my place centuries ago.”  Glaring at Fandral who was studying his lap.  “Was it two or three hundred years ago that I was told to move down?”

                Fandral didn’t look up, speaking softly. “Three.”

                Loki gestured loosely, agreeing. “Your friends were more important so being the good little shadow I made room for them at your behest.  I stayed to the side and spent my time in the libraries.  Ah, but you could never allow that.  Thor must always be the center of attention.  How many times would you drag me away from my own research to go gallivanting off on your adventures?”

                Thor argued weakly. “An effort to include you.”

                A devilish little smirk snaked across Loki’s face. “Perhaps, but I was never included as an equal. Always the one accused of jealousy; following where I was clearly unwanted when I would have preferred to be left alone.”

                The thunderer was quick to shake his head, distress in his voice. “You were never unwanted, brother.” Sif flinched again.  She wasn’t the only one.

                Loki’s eyes grew cold, his voice hard. “Do not attempt to defend your actions with clarity you did not hold back then. I lived those centuries.  Unless I was useful in aiding you in achieving your glory you had no time for me.  Yes, I was to stay at the back and **know my place**.”

                “I said that but one time--…”

                The trickster sneered, his tone acidic with resentment. “Agreed. The words changed each time they were uttered but the meaning was the same.  To assume my place at the back of the group as your shadow.  As your favored magical **pet**.  To utilize my sly nature, my lying tongue, and my tricks to do the dirty deeds that your honor could not allow.  But you certainly enjoyed the victory even as you criticized my methods in assuring it.  How many adventures during feasts boasted your own feats but omitted my contributions?”

                Glances were exchanged all around but no one denied it.  Thor felt the image shatter completely, realizing he hadn’t been the loving brother he’d thought he was.  Thor nodded and lowered his head.  “So you waited until I was mortal to enact your revenge.”

                Revenge. How petty did Thor think he was?  As if that had been his intent. 

                Yet even as Loki corrected Thor on that false assumption he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice. “I spent over a thousand years being trained to think as a prince.  To hold the arrogance and entitlement of a leader over the realm.  The son of a king…who was nothing more than a substitute.  Spare parts, to utilize a mortal phrase.  I was permitted to follow at your heels by Odin not so we could both return victorious, but to assure that **you** did so.  A handful of minutes that I was on the throne, merely as caretaker and steward after your banishment, and those here couldn’t contain themselves.  How quickly they scampered to your side.  I was merely the second son, but they, father, all of Asgard wanted you.  Needed you.”  Everyone was studying their boots except Thor who was staring at Loki as if he’d never seen him before. “Had they known their place and remained on Asgard I never would have had need to send the Destroyer to delay your return.”

                Thor just slowly shook his head in confusion. “Loki…why not tell me your intent?”

                Loki tilted his head slightly, tone caustic. “Because I knew you. If we have a commonality, it is our innate selfishness.  It was all about your glory.  The **mighty** Thor.  Upon your return you would immediately demand I relinquish the throne to you.”  Loki knew Thor wouldn’t have even entertained Loki using it just long enough to accomplish what he needed.

                “It was my right--…”

                It was rare when Loki would initiate the brawl but this was the exception.  Loki leapt the difference between them, giving Thor just enough time to stand.  The others jumped to their feet belatedly but didn’t interfere, watching Loki grip Thor’s shoulders and snarl in his face.  “What of mine??  He had no right to keep such a truth from me.  To destroy the very foundation upon which I tread.” 

                The others all exchanged confused glances but none of them dared to make a sound. Loki bared his teeth even as Thor held onto his wrist guards firmly, answering him with barely veiled pain.  “Just as you did so to me by lying to me of his death.”  A lie that Thor had later discovered, and how he wished it was still a lie now.

                Loki hissed venomously. “I wanted you to feel what I felt.  The pain.  The utter devastation.”

                “It was petty, brother.”

                Loki’s lips twitched suddenly, his moment of humor disconcerting. “Of course it was.  Do not pretend to be surprised that I am capable.”  Just as quickly as his mood switched in one direction, it moved in another as his mind spun around that moment in time.  In all this time Thor didn’t move.  He didn’t retaliate or struggle.  He listened.  Loki’s voice deepened, his eyes distant. “That was when I knew I had to act.  I had to distinguish myself, to make myself useful to Asgard.  You would never aid me in such an endeavor, which made you an obstacle.”  A manic light filled Loki’s eyes but Thor calmly faced the storm of emotions.  “No longer would I be a stolen relic.  I would be vital.  Needed. **Irreplaceable**.” 

                Something like devastation flashed in Thor’s eyes but he didn’t even attempt to speak in defense of Odin or Asgard. He knew what Loki was talking about and he was ashamed to admit it hadn’t occurred to him.  Loki hadn’t been popular amongst the aristocracy.  If it had been known that he was Jötunn all it would have taken was one poorly planned trick to ruin Loki’s life.  With the truth known, Loki would have been forced to walk on egg shells for the rest of his very long life.

                To be a male spell caster, one is looked down upon as a second class citizen. But while that caste is disrespected, there are worse fates on Asgard.  The Jötunn were a conquered people and by many not even considered people.  As a prince, mage or not, a noble could never demand Loki being indentured for a crime grave enough…but as a Jötunn it was not an unreasonable request.  Odin would have done so to preserve the honor of the family.  Because in the end Odin would always do what was good for Asgard and the family honor…even if it meant sacrificing a son to do it.

                …unless Loki could perform an act so profound it would never be a consideration.

                Loki tugged once sharply to be free, Thor not releasing him. The trickster sagged suddenly.  “And when it all went so wrong…he banished you for such a small matter comparatively.  I could only imagine what he would do with me.”  And he had let go.

                “And you returned to harm the mortals as reparations for what was said and done.”  Thor spoke as if he were just restating fact. 

                Loki couldn’t hold back the wall of rage.

                Green and gold magic coiled and exploded around Loki, throwing Thor and everyone else back several feet.  Loki turned away, bending with clenched fists and screaming words so quickly it was impossible for them to follow.  All of them sat there with wide eyes.  It had been so long since anyone had heard their native tongue that wasn’t filtered through Allspeak, a language that allowed them to communicate with and understand the other races, that they couldn’t even understand him.  Loki stood several paces away, his back turned, and breathing heavily with fists clenched at his sides.

                The world around them rumbled, never ceasing, yet Loki breathing in controlled intervals was deafening to them.  His voice was rough when he did speak.  “AEsir fight their own battles.”  That familiar phrase that had been drummed into them since childhood.  Thor thought it was out of place now, not seeing the significance.  Loki’s voice lowered, green eyes full of darkness. “…I wasn’t there to fight you.”

                “Your methods secured a response from Asgard.”  Thor’s response was softly spoken, full of reproach.

                “Indeed, I wanted **Asgard’s** response.”  Hogun’s expression turned thoughtful even as he remained silent.  As if something that hadn’t fit in his mind suddenly did.  Loki regained his seat, emotions hidden once more as he gestured and restored the blue flame.  “And so you appeared, Midgard’s champion.”

                “You forced my actions, Loki.”

                “Hmm…yes.  I suppose I did.”  Loki bared his teeth in that classic smile of his that hid everything and for once they all saw the smile for what it was.  A smile that they had seen for centuries that had been dismissed for amusement.  “Before we detoured, you mentioned how coveting the throne changed me.  This has always been me, Thor.  You just did not wish to see it.”  He sat up straighter with the authority of a king, his eyes daring Thor to contradict him.  “We will journey in a few hours, I suggest sleeping while possible.” 

                Thor was missing something. He wasn’t sure what it was but there was something hovering beyond the words that he didn’t understand.  As if Loki had offered all the necessary clues to discover the solution but it was still a puzzle he couldn’t solve.  Instead of retorting or instigating yet another fight he would take a page out of his brother’s book.  He would allow what was said to settle and hopefully the answer would present itself.  Thor chose to remain silent and followed Loki’s suggestion.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Farbauti’s brow furrowed in concentration as she asked, “What did he say?”

                Odin was tight lipped, his jaw filled with tension.  He had been alive for thousands of years.  The last generations had grown up with All-Speak as their primary language but he had been raised during the time when the AEsir spoke their native tongue for centuries before learning All-Speak. 

                Hela glanced over at him for just a moment before translating, “No. It’s not the reason.  But if I had one it’s because you love them more than me.  I followed you because you asked it of me.  I was dead to you until you had need of me.  I died for you.  Yet still you return to them without even seeing to my body properly.”  Hela’s eyes returned to Odin to see his reaction as she spoke the last.  “Brother is as hollow a title as father.”

                If it was possible, Odin’s lips thinned even further.

* * *

ALFHEIM

                Anya looked out the windows to her guest quarters with a small smile on her face. The realm of the light elves was so much milder than Asgard.  Though she supposed that the temperature would vary during the seasons but right now it was temperate and calm.  Beautiful.

                From her vantage point she could see the elves moving along the pathways with a calm, graceful pace as if they had nothing pressing to do. There was a gentle knock at her doorframe and she turned away from the window to answer it before remembering that these were guest quarters to the community housing.  Little details like doors didn’t exist at the main entrance to a room, only to bathing chambers, because light elves weren’t overburdened with modesty.

                “Enter.”

                A moment later a beautiful light elf flowed into the room. Her hair was a flowing white-gold that almost brushed the small of her back and her eyes were the most piercing blue Anya had ever seen.  She tipped her head ever so slightly in Anya’s direction.  “I am Sigyn.”

                Anya dipped into a small curtsey. She didn’t know this elf from any other yet this one felt like an aristocrat of some sort to her.  “Anya.”

                Amusement touched the smallest corner of Sigyn’s mouth, the gentle smile that only an elf used moved her lips. “I am Et’ana.  I believe your AEsir translation would be queen.”

                After blinking in surprise several times Anya performed a deeper curtsy. “Your highness.”

                “I did not tell you this so that you would bow to me. We are not a monarchy.  It is merely a title.”  Sigyn gestured almost dismissively, waving off Anya’s show of respect.

                There was a time when she had been truly ambitious and had thought to apply for citizenship to Vanaheim in hopes of one day being a Queen there. But then the previous Et’ana, Azni, had adopted her so that Sigyn could be Queen of Alfheim when the older woman had passed on from this life.  Her role didn’t quite sate her ambitious heart but she would do her duty, regardless.

                Sigyn was not, however, a sheltered woman. She’d been to the other realms.  The commoners of Asgard did not venture from their world without cause and usually one of the upper class were behind it.   The Alfheim queen decided to get to the point. “I gather you were sent here for a purpose.”

                Anya nodded almost immediately and pulled out a sealed envelope. “Ah, yes.  This is for you.”

                Sigyn barely even glanced at Anya as she broke the seal and read the contents. Her lips pursed ever so slightly before she folded the letter and asked, “Why did he send you here?”

                “I don’t understand.”

                The small elf smile made another appearance as she clarified, “This isn’t even sensitive information. Any number of means could have been utilized to deliver this yet he sends you to act as a personal courier.  My curiosity is peeked.”

                Anya shrugged slightly. “He asked that I deliver it.”

                “And you obey without question?” Sigyn’s blue eyes narrowed as she studied this woman, wondering if perhaps the whole point was simply to get her out of Asgard.

                “Of course.” A statement of fact, offered without hesitation and unconditionally.

                “Hmm…” Sigyn turned away slightly, staring distantly as she thought through possible reasons.  “What is the current state of Asgard?”

                “I apologize but I am not at liberty to say.” Anya pressed her lips together, silent emphasis to her words that she would not betray her realm or her king.

                “You would say nothing even if it were to mean a death sentence to remain silent?”

                Sigyn could see the fear in this AEsir’s eyes. Yet, again, Anya replied without hesitation, “Yes.  I am loyal to my king.”

                “Most curious…” Sigyn’s question had been only a test of Anya’s resolve.  She crossed to a window as she muttered this to herself.

                Anya watched her silently for a moment before asking cautiously, “What is?”

                “King Loki, even before his ascension, had amassed quite the reputation. Mischievous, cunning, unpredictable, powerful, and brilliant.  From my understanding of your kind, this is not the sort of man that is respected or appreciated on Asgard.”  Sigyn had answered while looking out.  Now she turned and pinned Anya to her spot with her gaze.  “You, however, are quite the conundrum.”

                “I am loyal, as I should be.” Anya folded her hands in front of her body, speaking what she truly believed.

                Sigyn slowly shook her head. She’d heard lip service of loyalty for centuries but every time a test was put before these people they folded like cards.  Until now.  “You are so much more than that.  You hold the loyalty of a lover yet you are not, nor do you hold interest for him in that manner.”  She continued to watch Anya’s subtle reactions as she spoke.  “You carry the protective instincts of a mother for her child, yet he is not a child to you.  I would almost describe the bond you hold to be for a sibling, but you do not see yourself as his equal.”  She tilted her head slightly as she searched for an accurate description.  “You are…complicated.”  Now she smiled ever so slightly.  “Nor would such feelings be developed only by yourself and not him as well, unless you were…psychotic.  Which leads me to think that he has sent you here for a reason.  As he gave you little information and the message is a thin excuse at best, I would theorize that he has sent you here to protect you.  Hence my question of the state of Asgard.”

                “I can speak of nothing I have heard.” Anya spoke slowly, her mind turning over what she could or even would say.

                “Then speak of what you can. Anything out of the ordinary.”

                Anya’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. It wasn’t a betrayal to speak of the weather.  Why would it be a betrayal to speak of a natural phenomenon?  It wasn’t an unheard of occurrence, for the ground to quake, but the duration of it had been odd.  “…some hours before my departure the ground started to shake.  It was a deep rumble that did not cease.”

                Sigyn looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding her head and departing swiftly.

* * *

MUSPELHEIM

                It could have taken three days, easily, especially with the river of fire in the way.  He was also the only one with the map to enter the specific cave entrance.  But Loki found himself almost involuntarily taking the middle paths to save time while still allowing their approach to the correct cave to go unnoticed.  He couldn’t even describe what made him do it.  It was almost as if…

                Loki immediately shied away from even contemplating the possibility that he was unconsciously sabotaging himself. He forced himself to remember why this was happening and why he was doing this.  Yet even with that reminder he wasn’t immediately swept away in a blind rage.  A small seed of doubt planted in that moment and took root.  A worry that his resolve was weakening.

                Their journey took two days in total. Now they entered the caverns with the quiet assurity of trained warriors, their senses on alert for danger.  It was much cooler in these tunnels than the surface.  Loki lobbed a globe of green magic into the air, to hover above their heads so they could see.

                He slanted a glare behind him.  “The first person who mentions **tricks** will owe me their head.”

                Thor frowned at Loki in disapproval.  “Loki…”

                The others ignored the pair of them. Now that they were out of the constant heat, Volstagg sighed in relief even as he complained loudly. “Tis hotter out there than the worst days of Asgardian summer.”  Loki silently rolled his eyes.

                Thor glanced at the rotund warrior with amusement on his face, Mjolnir on his belt even as he remained aware of their surroundings.  “It is the realm of eternal fire.”

                Volstagg grumbled to himself, “But even at night…how are we expected to sleep in such conditions?”

                Sif huffed and glanced back at him, asking tartly, “How are we expected to sleep with your snoring?”

                Fandral was fighting a grin as he asked Sif curiously, “Only **his** snoring?”  She instantly snarled at him wordlessly, refusing to acknowledge the unspoken chide that she snored just as loudly.

                Hogun ignored everyone’s bickering, ever practical. “What do you believe we will find?” 

                The warriors all looked thoughtful for a moment before throwing forward suggestions. Suggestions not as strange as one might think considering all had been found over the centuries in various realms.

                Fandral was the first to offer a suggestion with a grin.  “Treasure?”  Several of their adventures had ended with finding various treasure hidden in the realms.

                A cold little smile touched Sif’s lips.  “A dragon?”  She remembered well defeating a dragon on Vanaheim.

                “A feasting hall?”  Loki rolled his eyes again at Volstagg’s suggestion.

                Thor continued to look amused, his blue eyes sweeping over the tunnel as they walked deeper within. “Not everything revolves around our appetite, my friend.”

                Loki’s snarky retort was a familiar comfort to all of them.  A reminder to a time of just a few years ago, before they had all been torn apart.  “Thor, we are speaking of Volstagg. **Everything** revolves around a meal.”

                Fandral asked quietly, a hint of hesitant amusement in his tone.  “Just as everything revolves around books, sire?”  Depending on his mood, Loki could take a comment like that to heart with terrible results.

                Loki replied coolly, but not to a degree that indicated he was offended.  His eyebrow was lifted sardonically. “Are we really reveling in vices considering your activities on Vanaheim?”  Sif snickered softly. 

                Thor tilted his head back to laugh. “Well said, brother.”

                Loki’s look turned sly, reminding Thor of his own carnal adventures.  “Two words, Thor.  Vanaheim feast.”  In this instance the thunderer didn’t even wait to find a room, too drunk to remember there were others present.  Thor was no longer laughing but the others were.  Except for Hogun, whose eyes showed his amusement.

                “Loki.”  Thor’s tone was full of warning.

                Loki’s reply was silky as he asked.  “Yes, Thor?”

                Thor ignored the dangerous tone, as he always had.  Whether Loki was prince or king, he wasn’t about to be intimidated by his little brother.  “Less we will be discussing your own ventures on Alfheim, I suggest you desist.” 

                Unlike Asgard, Loki was very popular on Alfheim. It was a popularity that Loki had been ill prepared for.  The women as well as the men were drawn to him for his mind as well as the rarity of his features.  The light elves were known to aggressively proposition Asgard’s second son.  Aggressive enough that more than once during diplomatic visits Loki had been forced to share the same rooms as Thor so he could sleep the night unmolested.

                Even Hogun chuckled softly as red raced across Loki’s scowling face.

                They came to a stop at what could only be the entrance to Surtur’s former cage.  With a slight frown of concentration and a curious tilt to his head, Loki walked towards the empty panel where no doubt the power source had been contained.  Lightly with his finger he traced the metal that reminded him of Midgardian circuitry.

                “By the Gods…it goes on forever.”  The others all took a turn looking within the interior that did indeed seem to go on forever.  Loki wasn’t interested in where Surtur had been contained.  He was much more fascinated by his discovery.

                Thor noticed the trickster’s focus and asked, “What is it, brother?”

                Frowning now, his tone filled with soft wonder as he answered Thor, “Uru…refined in a way unheard of.”  There was a reason the magical metal was forged into blunt objects and large weapons.  It was too hard to manipulate into something so delicate.  At least to his knowledge.

                Sif held herself stiffly, weapon in hand.  “Can he be returned to his cage?”

                Loki’s eyes flicked in her general direction before taking several steps back, moving his hands intricately.  “Let us determine what was taken and we shall see.”

                Hogun frowned and Fandral’s mouth moved as if to speak, all of them twitching as a transparent figure moved without acknowledging them.  Loki grinned at their reactions, watching as his magic replayed the last few moments of the ‘power source’ being taken.  His minion was speaking to someone and he expanded the spell.

                “Is that--…”

                “Hela. Yes.”  Loki didn’t lose his grin but his jaw did tighten, recognizing Hela anywhere.  But then again he wasn’t surprised.  She didn’t directly interfere, at least not often.  She toyed with people and put choices before them but for the most part she left their fate in their own hands…and the consequences that followed.  His eyes drifted back to his minion.  He wanted to know what the power source was.  His grin slipped completely as he caught sight of what was removed.

                Thor was frowning in concentration. “It glows as the Tesseract does.”

                “I would imagine it does.”  The image faded but Loki didn’t move.  “It is an infinity gem.  Considering the nature of his imprisonment, I would venture it was the Reality Gem.”

                “Could we not use one of the others in Asgard’s vault?”

                Loki shook his head slightly, responding almost automatically. “No.  Each gem carries unique properties.”  His mind was circling like a whirlwind, cursing himself a fool.  Loki glanced to the right, at a narrow crevice that extended outward with writing along the wall.  He needed a few moments away from their watchful eyes before he absolutely lost control.  “I will investigate this tunnel here, to determine if there are alternatives.”  He doubted the writing would be of use, it was just a convenient excuse.  “Remain here.”

                Thor puffed himself up slightly to object, but a withering look thrown his way by Loki had him deflating slightly.  It reminded him that he had walked away from his right to the throne.  Kingship was now Loki’s right and privilege and as his brother it was Thor’s self-appointed duty to support him.  After a considered pause Thor managed to swallow his objections and nod.  “We will await your return, brother.”

                Loki nodded slightly, again internally surprised.  He left the glowing orb with them and instead created a second one as he walked away.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_A friend of mine asked me once what Loki had screamed at Thor and anyone else smart enough to understand.  Couldn't resist.  :)_

_**Next:** _

_Loki comes to a decision;  Thor catches a clue_


	12. Chapter 12

MUSPELHEIM

                With a flick of his wrist he set up a privacy wall at the entrance to the tunnel so they couldn’t hear him.  Loki slumped back against the wall, staring at an undefined point.  His face was expressionless but his mind kept turning.  He was a fool a hundred times over and now he knew it.  So focused on seeking his own end and giving the AEsir what they desired/deserved, he’d failed to see how Thanos could profit by this.  But the reality that Surtur had been held by an infinity gem brought everything into focus.  His minion would either sell the gem to the Titan…or had been working for Thanos this entire time and used Loki as a means to an end.

                He pulled in a shuddering breath, his entire body trembling before he closed his eyes.  _How could I be so blind? Why didn’t I see this coming?_ Then he remembered his minion had been talking to Hela.  Glancing up at the ceiling, not knowing if Hela would hear him or not.  “You knew, didn’t you?” 

                His felt his lip twitch just a little. If he weren’t the one involved he would applaud her skillful manipulation.  Asgard held the gauntlet and the Tesseract.  Midgard had the Mind Gem.  There were whispers that another of the gems was there as well.  He knew where this would be heading, assuming Surtur didn’t destroy them all.  A war that would have the universe converging on the mortals for the last of the gems.  The Infinity Wars.

                “Truly impressive.”  Loki glanced to the left, hearing a familiar sarcastic voice, as an illusion of himself walked through the wall with his hands clapping.  The illusion wasn’t dressed as he was now, but a Loki of a few years ago.  His shortened hair was slicked back, wearing princely leathers over his light armor that still held a sheen to the gold.  It was a Loki prior to going to Jötunheim, prior to Thor’s aborted coronation.  “All that effort, those long months of planning and we practically hand Thanos the object of his desire wrapped with a bow.”

                This was a fiction Loki had used many times before.  Even before his fall.  Since he was a child he found it was the best way to process a problem to find the correct solution.  A magical sounding board.  An illusion that wouldn’t lie to him, no matter how desperately Loki sometimes wished that would occur.  Loki retorted to his double softly, “In a finite amount of time we will be in death’s embrace and that won’t matter.”

                The illusion crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as if in agreement when it was quite obvious the exact opposite was true.  “Ah, of course.”

                Loki’s voice turned insistent. “We won’t care.”  Loki remembered how it had felt being dead.  The disconnect from the cares of the living that had washed away everything else.  In a way he couldn’t wait to achieve it again.

                With a tilt of his head, the fiction offered what they both knew was the truth, “Then, no.  Now…yes, you care.”

                Loki clenched both fists at his side and leaned forward to shout in denial, “I don’t!  I don’t care!  They deserve this.”

                The illusion sounded almost bored as he glanced at his fingernails and asked, “Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg deserve this?”

                Loki bared his teeth.  “They didn’t save her.”

                Now a small little smile stretched the fiction’s lips.  “And Anya?”

                Loki was more than just fond of Anya. In many ways that would never be expressed she was like family to him.  Even his beloved mother had failed him at times.  Frigga had withheld the truth from him and forced Anya to do so as well.  His mother with her good intentions had at times put his best interests to the side, sometimes striving for family harmony at his expense.  She would take Thor’s or Odin’s side over his own, even when she shouldn’t.  No one was perfect and he didn’t blame her but it illustrated that Frigga was juggling loyalties between the three of them.  Anya was his one constant.  He would never understand why but he had her unflagging loyalty.  So he’d done what he could to protect her. 

                Loosely with his left arm Loki gestured, arguing weakly, “I sent her away--…”

                “For now.”  The shadow pointed to himself.  “This is the whole purpose of my existence.  You can’t fool me and I won’t lie to you.  Surtur will never be satisfied with just Asgard.  With so many realms dead or dying the numbers no longer exist to stop him.  Once the AEsir fall the fates of the rest of the nine are sealed.  You know she will join AEsir fate soon enough.  Sending her to Alfheim is merely a delay.”

                Loki swallowed thickly.  “Everyone dies.”

                “But you don’t want her death to be the result of your actions.”  Loki’s pain was reflected in his eyes.  No, he would never want that.  “And as much as you may not wish to admit it, you don’t want those four to die that way either.”

                He turned his head so he wouldn’t have to look at the duplicate of himself.  “They will die in glory.  It’s everything an AEsir warrior wants.”

                The shadow clasped his hands together in false pleasure and lifted himself onto the balls of his feet in a bounce.  “Then you achieve your revenge and gain what you want.  And Thanos also gains what he wants.  At least the two of you are happy.”

                Loki turned back to snarl, “You bastard.”

                “I am you, if you recall, you moron. Or is that an insult to yourself?”  Loki’s jaw ticked in irritation and frustration before he childishly stuck his tongue out and glanced away again in a subtle sulk.  The shadow rolled his eyes.  “And you have accused Thor of being immature.”  Loki didn’t respond and after a moment of silence the illusion shook his head.  “Your short-sighted planning left this quite unfixable.”

                Loki narrowed his eyes. He had spent months planning the outcome.  Perhaps not this specific portion of the outcome, but Surtur’s release and the eminent battle between the fire demon and the AEsir were progressing as expected.  “It wasn’t short-sighted.”

                “Hmm…then I will use a different descriptive. You tunneled your vision.”  The shadow pointed at him and raised an eyebrow.  “How many contingencies did you anticipate?”  They both knew he wasn’t talking about the practicality of restoring Asgard.  Loki had spent his time putting the AEsir back together until they were once again the golden realm of the nine.  But for Surtur and the war that would follow, the lack of contingencies he’d planned for had been the evidence of his failing.

                He couldn’t stop himself from wincing. “Three.”  The illusion just **looked** at him. 

                On any given day he was constantly trying to find new and creative ways to solve problems. Plans within plans as it were.  His short fight alongside Thor on Svartalfheim had twenty-eight contingencies based on the players involved and how they responded.

                Loki’s tone turned insistent, trying to convince himself at this point. “That is merely an indication of a successful campaign.”

                “Or the arrogance of a fool.”  The retort was fired without anger or heat but Loki still flinched.

                Slowly the trickster shook his head. He thought of all the effort he had made to be certain that this couldn’t be traced back to him.  He had ensured no one had any idea what he was planning and hopefully they never would.  A plan that had unfolded beautifully with no suspicion of what was truly occurring.  Asking curiously, “When have I ever been so careful?”

                The shadow ticked off each point on a finger. “So careful you didn’t even invest enough time in determining what the power source was that you were gifting to that idiot?  So careful you did not even consider the possibility of a need for failure?”  Loki huffed and sat back, re-crossing his arms in a sulk.  “We know Thanos’ end game.  We’ve done the work for him.”  A wave of agitation swept through the illusion and he started pacing, self-hatred in his every step. “What do you think will happen when he gains all six and the infinity gauntlet?”

                Loki acknowledged the truth of that.  He wasn’t necessarily trying to protect the nine realms since his own goal was simply a cease of his own existence while taking the AEsir with him.  Still, it was the fact that Thanos wanted it that made it unappealing.  “The gauntlet is safely tucked away in the vault.”

                “If they are slaughtered by Surtur--…”

                “A fate they deserve.”  Loki nodded firmly to himself as he completed the thought, though his voice didn’t hold the same vehemence it once had.

                The shadow held out an appeasing hand. “I do not dispute that, Loki.  You know this.  This isn’t about their deserved penance.  This is about not allowing Thanos even one victory.”

                His expression turned thoughtful as Loki spoke his thoughts out loud and sighed in resignation, “The AEsir will simply have to win.”  Surtur would not be easily defeated.  He would simply have to be content that the lives lost in this battle to come would balance her loss.

                The illusion paused in his pacing to speak. “Ah, of course.  How?  We are long past that point.  The result is assured.  If the AEsir fail then Thanos wins.  If they succeed Asgard will be so weakened he won’t need an army.  Thanos will walk in at his leisure and take what he wants.”

                Loki’s brow furrowed. “He cannot enter the vault--…”

                The illusion was glaring at him lowly and Loki was tempted to dismiss it.  “One of the points of this was for us to gain a fitting end by Surtur’s hand.  We have no heir and Thor gave up his right to the throne.  The vault will be open and vulnerable with our death.”

                “Thor will stop him.”  What most would say with conviction Loki spoke weakly.

                “And if he dies with the rest?”

                Loki didn’t even attempt to hide the violent flinch as he broke out in a cold sweat. They had been rivals for years.  He wanted his brother humbled, defeated…but not dead.  The thought alone made him feel sick and instinctively he curved his arm around his middle.  It was one of the reasons he hadn’t questioned the thunderer’s lack of presence at Odin’s funeral rites.  He hadn’t wanted Thor involved because he knew he couldn’t keep the blond idiot out of the way.

                “He won’t die.” The shadow’s expression still looked dubious but there was no denying the absolute conviction in Loki’s voice. No matter the cost he would make certain Thor lived.

                “You’ve always known it would come to this.” The shadow wasn’t talking about the battle.  It wasn’t so much a subject change as a slight detour.  The illusion was talking about everything that had happened since Loki’s fall. 

                Hero or villain. Those were the only options for an AEsir.  When he fell he’d turned away from the path of a hero, a path he was never any good at.  But his choice was also the source of his own conflict.  If Thor represented a hero and Thanos represented a villain then what did that make him?  Loki hated the titan with every fiber of his being and wanted to be nothing like him, but he didn’t have the ability to be a hero.  Why couldn’t there be a third option?

                Loki slowly raised an eyebrow to himself, studying the far wall. “Of course I have. He’s the idiot that still hasn’t come to that conclusion.”  Both on the Bi-frost and on Midgard they were on opposite sides.  To secure victory one of them would have to die.  Loki had always known he couldn’t win.  Not because he was incapable of doing so, but because his victory would mean Thor’s death.  Thor wouldn’t yield but Loki wouldn’t allow himself to win at that cost.  He’d simply made matters easier to ensure that Thor could.

                But time and again the man pulled his punches, creating this stalemate. It was as if Thor was just as conflicted.  He didn’t approve of the man Loki had become, but loved him too much to kill him. 

                His thoughts shifted from the past to the very ugly present. He hadn’t thought this through.  But then in his rage he hadn’t been all that concerned about anything beyond the desired result.  He still wished for the result that would allow him to finally go to Valhalla, but for the rest he would somehow have to undo what he had started.  As always, Thanos ruined everything and he snarled to himself.  He now had to rethink this entire campaign.  “Perhaps Odin was wiser than we believed.”  Slowly Loki lifted a questioning eyebrow as the illusion finished the train of thought. “He never would have fallen into such a trap.”

                Loki snorted dismissively before retorting. “Only because he was the one who trapped Surtur with the gem in the first place.”  No doubt Odin knew the gem that he used.  Until now Loki had only known it as an unnamed power source.

                “ **Thor** never would have fallen for such a trap.”

                Loki growled softly, not liking his intelligence compared as less than his brother’s. “Are you truly going to argue with me over **his** intelligence?”  Crossing his arms over his own chest protectively, even if there might have been a grain of truth to it.  “Besides, as he has no desire to die so soon it is hardly a fair comparison.”

                The illusion smirked. “When have we ever played fair?”

                “Never.”  Loki retorted automatically.

                The illusion’s smirk faded, shoulders slumping just a little in resignation. “Two outcomes, and we the defeated fool in both.”  There were varying degrees of those outcomes, but it came down to two.  If the AEsir fought and won, their defeat against Thanos was assured.  If the AEsir fought and lost, there wouldn’t be anyone left to stop the titan.  Either way, Thanos would win.

                Loki nodded slowly in agreement, his mind turning quickly.  “Then we do what we always do.”  The illusion frowned thoughtfully as a grim smirk pulled at Loki’s lips.  His mind honed in on a solution. It wasn’t the most appealing solution to Loki but it certainly would be to Asgard.  “When presented with two choices and neither appeals…we create a third option.”

                The shadow was a part of him, after all.  Information flowed back and forth without a word being expressed.  After a long moment both tricksters smiled grimly and nodded, the illusion of the two of them fading.

* * *

                They had all taken up positions, leaning against the rock wall of the cave and silently waiting.  Yet even as looks were exchanged Thor slowly felt his brow furrow.  Words were constantly swirling around his mind, trying to find purchase.  Words from past conversations.  Words that were better left unsaid and words that he wished he had said. 

                But right now he was hearing Loki’s words. It all felt so familiar.  Then it occurred to him why it felt familiar.  It had been one of Loki’s favorite games as a child.  To leave clues hidden in the conversation even if no one ever discovered the answer.  The words found him now.

_“…I wasn’t there to fight you.”_

                A true statement as far as Thor knew.  At the time he took it to mean Loki hadn’t anticipated Thor responding to his actions on Midgard.  Now he wondered if perhaps he’d misunderstood.

_“Indeed, I wanted **Asgard’s** response.”_

                 Loki’s actions on Midgard had all but guaranteed that Asgard would respond. Not just as a threat to a world under Asgard’s protection.  But that Loki had made his presence so blatantly known Odin had had no choice in sending a response.  Thor’s brow furrowed.  His brother wasn’t arrogantly, foolishly bold, not when it involved a battle.  His fighting tactics were an artful display of cunning.  The battle of New York were AEsir tactics to smite an enemy, but not Loki tactics.  The approach had been a mistake as far as Thor was concerned unless it was as his brother said.  He’d wanted Asgard’s response because he was trying to attract attention.

                 Which further contradicted his understanding of the first response because Loki wasn’t stupid. Loki had to know if Asgard responded, as the golden realm’s future king he would be the first to arrive.  Then what did Loki truly mean?  Loki wasn’t evil.  Thor knew this; he believed it in his heart.  But Loki was right, too often he assumed the worst when it came to his brother. 

                 He had gone down to the dungeons with a quest to journey to Svartalfheim to save Jane and had convinced himself he was going to have to use threats to gain Loki’s cooperation. He was convinced his brother truly was gone and yet not even minutes after their quest had begun and Loki had returned as if he had never left.  His annoying pest of a brother, full of bounce and sarcastic quips.

 _"Even if I had full control of my faculties, can you perhaps see why I didn’t even consider asking for your aid_?”

                That earlier question was what confused him the most.  What did Loki mean by not having full control over himself?  A question that Loki was quick to divert from, leaving it unanswered and unexplained.  Thor wondered, not for the first time, if Loki’s thoughts and actions were be-spelled in some manner on Midgard.

                Midgard. This was the source of his conflict.  It left Thor questioning everything he thought he knew about the trickster.  In one year Loki had shifted from a loyal though mischievous son of Asgard to a blood thirsty tyrant desiring dominion over a mortal world.  He understood now Loki sending the Destroyer.  But Loki calling down an army of death on people under Asgard’s protection and unable to fight back was far outside his character.

                When Loki attacked, there was a reason behind it. He attacked someone who had wronged him.  He attacked those that had harmed someone he loved.  He attacked when he was ordered to by Asgard.  He didn’t attack random people for no reason.  Attacking the mortals just because Thor cared for them was too petty of an act and Loki was above such actions.

                Then it all became clear to Thor. Unless someone had forced him to do so. **That** was the answer.  Loki’s actions were not his own and his clever brother had done what he could to call for aid, perhaps by the only means at his disposal.  He hadn’t been there to fight Thor, he’d been there needing Thor’s help.  Loki hadn’t betrayed them.  Thor’s eyes widened and he dropped his face in his hands in despair.

                “He is more…temperamental as of late.” Eyes swung around to Fandral who was frowning at his hands.

                Thoughtful looks were exchanged before Volstagg shook his head. “You are imagining things, my friend.”

                Hogun looked at Fandral grimly and spoke in agreement. “No, you are not.”

                “It is because I am here.” Thor let his hands fall loosely between his knees, staring at the ground.  It hadn’t been intentional but he had betrayed his brother, not the other way around.  Loki was never going to forgive him.  Coming to Asgard had been a mistake.  He should have remained on Midgard.

                “No. That is not the reason.”  Heads swung around to look at Sif, the warrioress stiffening her spine slightly.  She pursed her lips before pulling in a slow breath but kept her gaze forward.  “I have been on your adventures since I came of age.  We have faced war and been victorious.  We have faced some of the worst creatures in the nine realms and barely escaped with our lives intact.”  She glanced at Thor and grinned.  “You were at the front, encouraging us by example to show our might, to fight for glory.  Loki was either at our side or right behind, watching our backs to ensure we survived.”  There were nods all around in agreement. “Thousands of times we faced death…and never once was I afraid.”  Her grin slipped, worry in her eyes.  “I fear his rage and I am unashamed to admit it.”

                Thor gestured to Fandral. “It is as you said, he has not been like this until now.”

                Sif shook her head as she corrected him, watching understanding sweep across those present. “He has been like this since your exile, he just cannot seem to hide it in your presence.”  That understanding became slight nods, Sif finally labelling what they had all instinctively felt but been unable to explain.

                “Sif…that was over three years ago.  No one can remain angered for that length of time.”

                She just looked at him, and slowly Thor’s confidence waned.  This was Loki, after all.  The man who was obsessive about the placement of his books and would complain for weeks if they were placed in the wrong order on the shelves.  The man who **still** hadn’t forgiven him for accidentally breaking one of his favorite quills…and this happened when Loki was seven seasons old, which roughly translated to 900 years ago.

                Sif’s lips pursed slightly, expression thoughtful. “I am just unsure why he is so angry.”  But the look on her face said she was fairly certain he would know.  “It cannot all be because of our dishonorable actions.”  Because she knew with certainty now Loki had been angry before it, she just wasn’t certain when it had started.

                “The late queen.”  Fandral looked pained as he said this.  A pain that was echoed across Thor’s face at the reminder of his mother’s death.  “He was denied his right.”

                “He--…”  Sif started to protest that Loki had been in the dungeons at the time.  But then she realized Fandral’s point.  Unless Loki was dead, he had a right to attend.

                The blond warrior nodded slowly to her.  “Aye.  No man has the right to bar an acknowledged child from those rites.”  Thor briefly closed his eyes as he felt his face flush with shame.

                Sif frowned at Thor and asked, “Is there another reason?”

                Thor pressed his lips together.  He knew some of his brother’s anger came from that.  And he was just as guilty as their father in not insisting Loki be permitted to say his goodbyes.  He also suspected he knew at least another part of the reason had to do with Loki’s heritage being kept from him, but he would never out Loki like that.  Slowly he shook his head.  “I cannot say.  It is a truth for Loki to tell for I shall not.”  They all jumped up as Loki appeared and moved without seeing them.  “Loki?”

                Loki walked out of the side tunnel and through the main one for the exit, a plan slowly forming.  He would call the AEsir here to clear a path to Surtur, but he would no longer be using them as fodder.  There would still be a death toll, but he might be able to minimize it.  Ordering the tertiary to Muspelheim only as a last resort so that the more seasoned men would take the front line would help.  Other thoughts came and went.  At the moment he had the vague workings of a plan.  With a little more time it would solidify into a glorious victory.

                He ignored Thor calling out to him, making it back to the surface. All this time there had been minor quakes rocking the world beneath their feet since this was a realm of fire and volcanic eruption.  A tremor worked through the ground, deeper than the rest and Loki felt it jar him a little as he paused in his steps.  Not in a physical sense, but as if something had just occurred to him.  Three days. 

                The red haze of rage that had tunneled his vision lost its grip and Loki stood for a moment in clarity. He took another long look around at the world under his feet.  The mountainous peaks in all directions, the heat overwhelming as fiery death oozed from every pore of this oppressive world.  The fumes were not to be dismissed either but the heat was close to unbearable.  Indeed were he not able to use his seidr to protect himself, thanks to his Jötunn physiology, he might have succumbed to the heat long before now.

                He looked west and for just a moment an image of Asgard’s snow peaked mountains superimposed over what he saw.  In less than a day this would be what Asgard had once been.  The screaming, dying citizens would succumb under the violent heat for not even AEsir strength could combat molten lava.  Not the warriors, for all the warriors would be coming here, but the innocents of the realm.  The women and children who were not trained to fight.

                _They weren’t to blame_. 

                On Midgard he’d stood for just a moment in panicked clarity, Thanos losing his control for just a moment. He had looked over the death and destruction that was being spread around New York.  But deep in battle it had been far too late to change his course.  There was time now and no one could alter his actions this time.

                He shook himself and took a step forward, his mind racing as he spoke to the skies filled with ash and grey cloud banks. Heimdall could see the realms at his choosing, and Loki knew the gatekeeper of Asgard made it a habit even now of closely watching the actions of the trickster in command of the golden realm.  “Heimdall, you now have three tasks.  Inform Tyr to order the assembly of our primary and secondary forces and deliver them here.  We have an enemy to smite.”  His jaw tightened but for the first time in months it felt like the vice grip around his heart had loosened.  He kept telling himself she would have wanted this.  “Secondly, coordinate with Eir.  Send the tertiary forces along with the denizens of Asgard to Vanaheim.”  Loki’s jaw tightened just a little.  “And third.  Send missives to the other realms warning them to turn their eyes towards Muspelheim.”  He glanced to the right, Thor sending him a curious look.  Justifying softly.  “In case we fail.”

* * *

HELHEIM

                Hela tilted her head slightly.  She was alone in the throne since not even the dead can watch the living forever.  She had been focused on Loki for a while now.  An excited feeling that started somewhere near her toes was slowly stretching upward.  He was doing something she hadn’t expected and it thrilled her.  With hunger in her eyes she was now riveted on the trickster’s every moment.

                She could feel it within the fibers of Yggdrasil, the World Tree.  A moment was approaching.  Something delicate and important was dangling within reach.  A choice.  Life was full of such moments, but they were tiny, inconsequential diversions on the path with little impact.  Choices that only effected the person making the decision.  This choice was so much more than that.

                Every living being was made up of the golden strands of life.  Like the yarns that made up an enormous tapestry, or the silk that created a spider’s web.  A strand would bend this way or that depending on their choices and interactions with others.  The web would easily accommodate since the change in direction didn’t affect the overall shape of the web. 

                But Loki was unique and it was why she had always taken an interest in watching him.  He didn’t conform.  He wouldn’t allow himself to be bent in the direction that society dictated or that the web wished him to travel.  By birth he was born to be a villain.  The way that he was raised, the way that he was treated, all these little factors stacked against him to force him into that shape.  To turn him away from the path of a hero to something twisted and dark.  He was born to be Thor’s enemy and past events were supposed to send him firmly down that path.

                Yet he was making a choice that would take him off that path. Not a choice of hero or villain, but something else.  Something more.  It was a choice that not just effected the one making the decision, but a moment that would vibrate through all the other golden strands of life.  A choice that could reshape the web into something bigger…or shatter it.

                The Queen of the Underworld **lived** for moments like this.

* * *

 

**_Author's Notes:_ **

_Now that a decision has been made, let's see what happens and who survives.  :)_

**_Next:_ **

_Eyes turn to Muspelheim; A deal with Lady Death_


	13. Chapter 13

ALFHEIM

                Anya had known for years that life wasn’t simple.  But she had thought by comparison to others that at least her life would be.  And then a prince had chosen her, forever altering her course as an ordinary woman.

                And now she was accompanying the queen of Alfheim to the building where the Senate convened.  Nor was she following a few steps behind as would be appropriate.  At Sigyn’s insistence Anya followed at her side.  “This is highly inappropriate, La--…”

                “Stop.”  Sigyn all but snapped the word at her before sighing softly and regaining control over her temper.  “While there are many in Asgard who could use a taste of humility and who lack respect, you are not one of them.  Sigyn.”

                Anya hesitated for several long seconds before obeying.  “Sigyn.”

                That small elf smile made an appearance.  “Much better.”

                Neither of them had paused in their steps.  They passed through the merchant district without incident and stepped onto a stone walkway that would lead directly to the Senate among a cluster buildings.  Slowly Anya shook her head and wondered out loud, “Why would you choose me to accompany you?  I am merely a servant--…”

                Sigyn wagged a chastising finger at her.  “Ah ah.  You are not a servant here.  You are a guest, sent here by your king.”

                Anya’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment before she asked what she was struggling to understand.  “Then why would you include an outsider for an internal matter?”

                From a hidden pocket within her clothing Sigyn retrieved a small, folded letter written on parchment before she handed it over casually.  “I received this missive from Asgard.  I have called for an emergency Senate session.”

                Anya’s brow furrowed but only when further prompted did she read the rather simple message before glancing at the Alfheim queen.  “I don’t understand.”

                Sigyn took the letter that was handed back to her.  “Do you know of my singular duty?”

                “Yes.”  Anya continued when Sigyn just glanced at her curiously.  “Et’ana calls the legions of Alfheim to war.”

                “It is interesting that you know that.”  Anya frowned, not understanding why that would be interesting.  “Most do not.  It is not a secret, but I have noticed that your kind prefers to focus on their internal affairs instead of others.”  She still didn’t see that as significant and Sigyn chose to explain the message, rather than dwell further on an AEsir who was much more than she seemed, yet considered herself ordinary.  “This message suggests we turn our eyes towards Muspelheim.  It is a rather distinct phrase.  It means that there is a threat to Alfheim in that direction.  I also know that other messages were sent from Asgard to the Vanir and the dwarves.”

                “It--…”  Anya cut herself off quickly, feeling her face flush with shame.  She had almost blurted out in surprise that that was where Loki had gone.

                A slightly crafty look crossed Sigyn’s face.  “I will tell you what we know so far.  We know that a large portion of Asgard’s army is assembling there.  We also know your king is there.”  Anya glanced away but the elven queen didn’t attempt to force a confession out of her.  “From an earlier conversation I know that Asgard suffered from tremors.”  Sigyn said this airily, as if it was just a bit of casual information that had been brought to her attention and not something that Anya had said.  “It can only mean one thing.”

                Anya frowned ever so slightly and asked, “What is that?”

                “Surtur stirs.”  Anya’s eyes widened in horror but Sigyn’s thoughts had already shifted to the distant past to interpret the present.  “He has stretched out his hand to attack Asgard and they have responded.”

                “And your response?”

                Sigyn’s expression turned grim, her mind already set on the course.  Elves weren’t known to act in futility, but to not even try was unacceptable.  “I will order the legions to Muspelheim, but this message comes too late.  I fear Asgard must win or lose without our assistance.”

                “Then why send them?”  Anya shrugged a little as she asked.  She certainly didn’t want to dissuade any aid the elves wished to offer, but she was also curious.

                “Unlike AEsir, elven remember the past well.  If Surtur stays true to that past, he will lash out at Vanaheim next, followed by Alfheim.  I would prefer he is defeated before we are.  If the Vanir have any intelligence, they will do the same.”  Sigyn said this with little inflection, as if she were merely stating facts that had no direct impact on herself or her people.  “During this Senate session I will suggest communicating with Vanaheim to arrange cooperation.”

                Sigyn slowed to a stop and Anya continued for a step or two before pausing and turning with a frown.  The elf was staring forward with her vibrant blue eyes but it was as if she was frozen in a moment of time, her gaze distant and her clothing in mid swing.

                “Sigyn?”  When the elf didn’t respond Anya took a quick look around and noticed that the elven queen wasn’t the only one frozen in time.  Birds in the air were still in mid-flight.  Other elves nearby were frozen as well.  Yet she could clearly see elves beyond the complex of buildings walking as normal, unaware of her or those that were motionless.

                “She can’t hear you.”  Anya jerked around towards the one speaking, her eyes widening as she recognized the woman who had been standing behind her.  A tall woman with dark hair and piercing green eyes.  “Do you know who I am?”

                Anya swallowed slowly.  “Queen Hela.”  Through Loki there were a lot of people she knew by sight.  He’d warned her to be wary of Hela’s deals.

                The Helheim queen’s lips twitched before she asked, “Do you know what else I am called?”

                “Lady Death.”  Anya’s voice was a hushed whisper, as if to speak it would be to bring down Hela’s wrath upon her.

                “Indeed…and I am here for you.”  That twitch became a small, grim smile.

                Anya paled harshly and swallowed painfully.  “I--…I died?”

                “No.”  The twitch along the corners of Hela’s mouth happened again as the AEsir before her instantly scowled.  Hela liked the hidden fire in this one and once again lamented that she should have paid this Asgardian commoner more attention.  Purring her words softly, “I’m here to make a bargain with you.”

                “Me?  Why me?”  Anya looked thoroughly shocked and confused.  She was a commoner and she knew it.  She wondered why the Goddess of the Underworld would have any interest in her.

                “Why not?”

                Anya shrugged a single shoulder.  “I’m…I’m not important.  Why would you need anything from me?”

                Hela ignored her question and her claim of insignificance.  Instead she spoke the dire warning calmly, “The AEsir are going to fail.”

                Anya felt a ball of dread fill her belly, yet at the same time she felt her jaw stiffen.  But she spoke softly and carefully, averting her eyes.  “You can’t see the future, you don’t know that.”

                Hela nodded slowly to confirm Anya’s beliefs.  “You are right I cannot see the future.  But then I do not need to, to hold certainty of their fate.  Loki is incapable of saving them.  He may try or he may not, but either way they will fail.”

                “You may not believe in him but I do.”  Anya crossed her arms over her chest, her hesitation to argue with a creature that could kill her with a touch obliterated in defense of her king.

                Hela felt another flare of amusement.  There was a bit of a temper buried in this one and it delighted her.  She demanded respect but she despised groveling.  “It is not an insult against his capabilities.  It is an insult to your people.”  Anya blinked at her in surprise.  “The Vanir and elves have respect for their magical caste.  Those individuals are folded into society and educated to use their talents.  Loki has been made to stumble around on his own, using books and guesswork to achieve what he has now.  But illusion and teleportation will not win this war.  He is the strongest mage to have walked among the living, yet he could be defeated by a battle mage on Vanaheim who does not even have a fraction of his strength, all because the Vanir would know more spells and would wield seidr with more finesse.”  She made a dismissive gesture and ignored Anya’s crestfallen expression.  “Without me he will not walk off the battlefield, the odds are stacked too high against him.  I’m offering to even those odds a bit.”

                Now Anya felt truly wary.  “In return for what?  You do not give away something for nothing in return.”

                Hela nodded in agreement.  “Very true.  I see he warned you.  Ordinarily my price would be high, such as your soul.”

                Anya waited a beat but when the price was not asked for she frowned and asked, “Then why is that not the price?”

                With a soft sigh Hela moved as if to sit and a deep red chaise appeared beneath her.  “I can only offer that price to one who would on the cusp between Valhalla and Helheim upon their death.  You will never even come close to being one of mine so why would I barter for something I cannot have?”

                Which made sense to Anya.  But it also made her wonder what Hela was truly after.  “Then what do you want?”

                “I will clarify my motivation first.  I act purely for my own amusement and enjoyment.”  She glanced at her own fingernails for a moment before smirking.  “I want to make this clear when I tell you my requirement.  And it is this…I will give Loki a spell that he will be capable of using to defeat his enemy.”  Now a strange light lit her eyes, something that could be described as more than delight, yet vicious in the same instant.  It made Anya truly aware of the predator beneath the skin of an ordinary appearing woman.  “In return if Asgard is victorious and Surtur is defeated, and of course if Loki survives, you will be required to give him a hug.”

                “A--…a what??”  Anya looked like she’d been slapped across the face.

                Hela bared her teeth in response and repeated herself, “A hug.  If I recall correctly you would utilize your arms and wrap them…”  She trailed off on purpose, her point made, and her smile widened when Anya just blinked at her.

                The AEsir servant was at a complete loss of words for several moments.  “Why?”

                “Because I want to see the expression on his face, which I have no doubt will be worth witnessing.”  Which was true.  If Loki received a hug from anyone not his mother then his expression would be priceless.  But she also saw it as a reward of sorts.  If he did win and if he did choose to continue living, in her opinion and as clichéd as it might be he was in desperate need of one. “Do we have an accord?”

                Anya fought not to stutter but she was truly beside herself.  It was the most bizarre thing she’d ever heard.  “That is truly your price?  You will provide a spell that could turn the tide in Asgard’s favor and save millions upon millions of lives and in return you wish me to hug Loki?”

                Hela huffed at the Asgardian.  “I really do not know why you are hesitating.  I hardly find my price a burden--…”

                “It isn’t!”  Anya rushed to speak before the Helheim queen changed her mind.  She swallowed once before she nodded.  It was completely inappropriate even if it was a strictly platonic gesture, but she was a woman of her word.  “I’ll do it.” 

                Hela tilted her head slightly in the opposite direction as if she’d heard something Anya could not. She grinned and faded, a moment before time reasserted itself around Anya.

                Sigyn paused after several steps to see Anya stopped and facing the other way.  “Are you well, Anya?”

                Anya blinked and glanced back at Sigyn who was looking at her oddly.  She pasted on a small smile and moved to catch up.  “Of course.”  If the elven queen noticed the bemused expression on her face or the worry in Anya’s eyes she made no mention of it and together they continued towards their destination.

* * *

MUSPELHEIM

                Loki slipped behind a small hill.  He had limited time and if he delayed too long, someone would come looking for him.  He knew what he was going to do, but he had to plan for the future as well.  Thanos would not get his hands on the gauntlet.  All he had to do was gain the assistance of an accomplished wielder of seidr.  The problem was that the price for her cooperation was always high.  “Hela.”

                Hela had her arms crossed loosely, giving Loki a thoroughly unimpressed look as she appeared before him.  “I do not come when called for just anyone, Loki.”

                Loki ignored her slight annoyance, his mind calm now.  He just had to move a few more pieces to accomplish his goals.  “A bargain, Hela, name your price.”

                “My…my…so reckless.”  The Loki she had known and watched would never offer such a bargain.  But then again, from his perspective he was seeking death and had nothing left to lose.  She smirked privately to herself.  Especially since he already knew what price she would ask for.  “What is it you want?”

                “I cannot be in two places at once.”

                Hela knew instantly what he was saying.  She resisted the urge to frown slightly.  That was…unexpected.  But then delight filled her immediately after.  He was so deliciously unpredictable.  “Mhmm…so you wish to protect the golden realm.”

                His tone was insistent, making sure to emphasize the distinction.  “For the citizens.  Not the warriors, just the citizens.  Until they are no longer on Asgardian soil.”

                She shrugged slightly, carelessly, and gave him the expected price.  “Your soul.  I want your soul.”

                His smirk had a twist of bitterness to it.  “You are welcome to what is yours.”

                Hela lifted a single eyebrow ever so slightly.  They both knew he was exact when he spoke, particularly with someone like her.  But if she thought the phrasing was odd she made no mention of it.  “Consider those wonderful innocents safely out of harm’s way.”  Her green eyes flicked away from him, in the direction of the AEsir assembling. “What are you going to do?”  He flashed her a smile, saying nothing.  Not that she had expected one.  But her curiosity forced her to ask.  “One question, Lord Loki.”  He inclined his head ever so slightly, indicating for her to ask.  “Is it compassion that moves you?”

                “I do not feel compassion.  It is…”  His eyes flicked in her direction but he felt the hesitation drift.  These were some of his innermost thoughts but she was the queen of the dead.  Speaking to her of this was like speaking to his mother’s fountain.  There was no judgement and she had no interest in offering it.  He was just giving his thought a voice.  “It is something my mother once spoke of that now resonates with me.”  Words that hadn’t stopped his actions against Jötunheim, but then he had never felt anything for them beyond contempt.  Asgard had been the realm he had loved. 

                He and Thor had been read the defeat of the dark elves a thousand times over. A defeat that not only killed them, but had destroyed all life on Svartalfheim.  But even as Thor had been crowing about AEsir might; that one night, Loki had seen something in her eyes that spoke of a sadness.  He had wondered why she would be saddened by the defeat of an enemy of the nine realms and asked her about it.  He now repeated those words to Hela, “Denizens should not be held responsible for the actions of a realm.”

                She nodded slowly to herself before a sly look stole across her face.  A folded piece of parchment appeared between two fingers and she wagged it at him teasingly.  “Care to make another bargain?” 

                She knew his greatest disadvantage was his youth and the realm that raised him. There were spells known in the nine that could accomplish almost anything if one had the power to support it.  And as she was a fount of information she knew most of them.  Other than illusions and travel, Loki used his magic the way AEsir used their weapons.  If he’d had the proper training, he would have the finesse of a true seidmadr.  This piece of parchment held a spell that would allow him a more artful display of his gift.

                His brow furrowed slightly, surprised.  “I have nothing left to barter.”

                The sly expression only grew bigger, deciding not to mention Anya.  “This is not that sort of bargain.  I will offer you two choices and you will decide which you will accept.”

                “I am listening.”

                Her green eyes flicked out again, in Surtur’s general direction.  “I know your plan.  You plan to throw the full force of your magic at him.”  His expression vanished, which all but confirmed her observation.  “Blunt force might defeat your enemy…but then again it might destroy more than just your target.  If your calculations are in error you could destroy all those around you.”  Either the excess seidr could physically destroy them, or he might inadvertently destabilize the entire planet, killing all of them in the implosion.  She shrugged a shoulder.  “Or you might destroy this realm along with Surtur, which supports my previous observation.  You might find that acceptable…but then again you might not.”  She held out the paper.  “The parchment is one possibility.  The calculations are perfect, the words precise, and the result should be predictable.”  It was more than just a series of words.  They were specific instructions on how far away from his target he would have to be in addition to the words and gestures.

                He took it but didn’t look at it, asking, “Or?”

                The slyness shifted to a slightly evil expression.  “If you abandon them to their fate I will ensure that Surtur is trapped in his grave once more.”

                “In exchange for what?”  He asked carefully and warily.

                His caution was with good reason when she offered a response.  “I will take the life of every warrior on this planet as compensation.”  She put emphasis on the first word.  “ **Every** warrior.”  Her eyes glanced over at Thor, Sif, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg to emphasize her point.

                He slowly narrowed his eyes, his voice mystified as he asked, “You expect me to agree to such a bargain?”

                That evil grin became a full smile.  “You wanted them dead anyway.  And if you take the latter you will avoid Helheim for a little while longer.”

                “Why should I be limited to two choices?  Why would I be so interested in saving my own life I would sacrifice Thor?”  He couldn’t even figure out what he was feeling as he asked.  There were too many emotions crowded together.

                She hummed softly.  “Choose any of them, choose all of them.  But neither your initial plan nor the parchment are a guarantee of success.  The latter is.”  A crafty look crossed her face as she put forward her own opinion.  “If you fail, the nine will falter…and Thanos will gain what he wants.”  His eyes narrowed to slits.  “I believe you are so interested in defying the Titan and protecting your little servant girl that you will sacrifice a man who isn’t truly a brother.”

                If he was surprised that she knew about Anya his expression didn’t show it.  He turned the parchment over and over with his fingers.  “It hardly seems like a bargain for your advantage.”

                Whether he died and went to Helheim now or later was hardly a concern to her.  “It’s only time.  And I have an unlimited supply.”  She gestured to the right and from nothing a gateway appeared that led to the twilight of Helheim.  She walked into it and spoke over her shoulder, “Besides, the fun lies in seeing which choice you make.”

* * *

HELHEIM

                Hela appeared in Helheim just as unexpectedly as she had disappeared.  As Queen of the Underworld she could come and go as she pleased but it always made Odin curious how she accomplished it.  Her brow was furrowed in thought as she retook the throne.

                Odin had watched her silently but now his voice was clearly mystified as he asked, “How are you able to do that?”

                She didn’t even glance in his direction, holding out her hand for wine and gesturing with the other so that they might all see what was happening on Muspelheim, “What?”

                “How is it that you are still capable of using magic?” He clenched his fists as he inquired, suppressing the bitterness in his tone that she was capable of a power in death that he was not.  He didn’t have a whisper of magic within his soul now and since Gungnir was in Asgard he had no way to reclaim it.

                Slowly she lifted an amused eyebrow, looking at him as if he were no more than a pouting child. “I was never mortal like you so your rules don’t apply.” 

                His frown was almost thoughtful before he asked, “What were you?”

                “Complicated.” She wasn’t in the most indulgent mood.  Nor was she interested in discussing a past that was none of his business.

                Farbauti slinked out of the shadows, standing next to a pillar and speaking softly. “Some of the tales say that you are the heart of a realm, made flesh.  Others that you were a Norn, not unlike the sister fates.”

                Amusement crossed Hela’s face. “Yes, and others that I am Loki’s daughter.  Obviously not every story is true.”

                “This time.”

                Hela blinked at the Jötunn in surprise. “You have been paying attention.”  Farbauti just inclined her head slightly.

                Odin looked back and forth between the two of them in confusion. “What is this?”

                Hela settled herself comfortably on her throne, her green eyes distant for a moment as she thought of how life truly worked. “The ancient tale that life and time are nothing more than an endless loop.  When the end comes, instead of destruction and nothingness there is a restart of time and life begins again.  Only we do not remember the cycle.”  Her lips quirked in amusement.  “Odin.  Odinn.  Woden.  Wodan.  Wuotan.  Wotan.  You have had many names.  You have had many lives.  Once you were blood brother to Loptr, Loki’s previous incarnation.  There were several cycles where you never found him.  Others still where you killed him as an infant, but that only happened twice.”  Hela said this as if she were discussing the weather while Odin looked truly vexed for several seconds before he hid it.

                Farbauti ignored his reaction, nodding in agreement. “And with each new cycle is a possibility for different choices.”

                “Fictions.” Odin whispered the word, trying to reassure himself that Hela was just attempting to torment him.

                Unlike the living she did remember the past cycles. All those possibilities with all sorts of results.  These most recent incarnations of herself had been like this, but there had been an increasing number of versions with herself somehow as Loki’s daughter.  If this version ended as the rest, perhaps in the next cycle she would be his daughter once more.  She longed for an end to the parody of living with no meaning.  “Brave words for a man who dabbles with magic.” 

                Odin stiffened, offended. “I do not dabble.”

                A chilling smile slowly inched across Hela’s face. “Or perhaps it is more appropriate to say that I do not attempt to enslave the magic around me…unlike some people I know.”

                Farbauti, who was leaning against a pillar, snorted softly to herself.  “He enslaved everyone else.  Why should he have respect for magic?”

                Odin ignored the Jötunn as he stood up taller, his back stiff and pride in his gaze. “I utilized magic without Gungnir.”

                “Not really. Parlor tricks don’t count.”  Hela snickered, thinking of the magic he’d been capable of before Gungnir had fallen into his possession.  The warriors of Asgard chided Loki for his ‘tricks’ but held short memories for the ones that Odin had been known for.  All they remembered is the Odin of the now.  The mighty King.  The accomplished warrior with Gungnir in his hand and Sleipnir under his seat who used prized AEsir tactics to win wars.  They didn’t remember him like the nine remembered him.  The puppet-master.  The miser.  The king who arranged wars as coldly as he arranged alliances and took back prizes from those victories, whether they be trinkets or people.  Those people being his war bride and his second born.  He used sleight of hand and a basic understanding of potions.  But most importantly, he used the sound of his own voice as a controlling mechanism.  A rumble to cause strife to dissipate.  A roar to cause fear.  A soothing tone to persuade his victim to his point of view.  All of which was a spell that he had paid a mage to cast over him several thousand years ago.

                Then of course there was the more direct approach. Evidence of a corrupt Duke of Vanaheim mysteriously appearing in the King’s study.  A prince of Alfheim beds a young servant girl and it is later revealed she was in fact a Vanir priestess who is now with child and has no memory of how she came to Alfheim. 

                “I meant real magic, real spells. You needed it because magic does not heel to your command without force.”  A sly little grin crossed Hela’s features, knowledge in her eyes. “But then that was why you were always envious of Loki.”

                “What?”

                She rolled her eyes at him when it seemed he was determined to play dumb. “Magic adores the trickster. It has been his companion since his birth.  If you had left him on Jötunheim, his magic would have sustained him.”

                Farbauti nodded in agreement.  “It has happened before.  An accident will result in deaths, yet a child will be spared, found days later with no sign of injury or malnutrition.”

                Odin blinked in surprise, distracted from his pride by such a claim. Loki had been but an infant, not even a few days old. _Without the knowledge to control it how could magic nurture and protect him for any length of time_?  Asking softly, almost to himself, “How?”

                A secret little smile pulled at Hela’s lips. “Do not underestimate magic, Borson.  You view it as a tool to be managed and contained.  A tool that will not act or react without direction.  Magic is so much more.  Paired with the right person, it is a loyal partner.” 

                Farbauti’s eyes glinted. “Do you not know the songs of Ymir?”

                “Songs?” Now Odin glanced at the Jötunn in surprise.

                The former Jötunn queen rolled her eyes. “The ancient stories, passed down through the ages.  We do so with songs.”  She hummed softly to herself for just a moment as if to remind herself of those songs.  “The tales say that Ymir died 5 times over the course of his life.  Twice his body was destroyed, yet he returned.”

                Now Odin looked indulgently amused as he offered what he thought was the answer. “In a new form, perhaps.”

                “I have heard the mortals talk of reincarnation.” Farbauti was not an idiot and knew when she was being mocked.  “No, it was his body made new.  Seidr restored to him that which was lost because he would not be parted from life before he was ready.”

                Odin glanced with his blue eye in Hela’s direction. “Is he in Helheim…or Niflheim?”  There was no denying the vicious curiosity that was now in Farbauti’s eyes.

                Hela made her face contort as if she were thinking really hard about the answer before answering with a soft sigh, “I can’t remember.” Hela could of course, but she would never tell.  Her little smile grew.  She also knew that the songs sung by the Jötunn were true. 

                Ymir held a link to seidr and the World Tree similar to the one that Loki now holds. A partnership of man and magic combined with a will to live that could survive a plunge through the branches of Yggdrasil and into Thanos’ hands.  A bond that could reassemble a mind shattered and broken by the titan.  She blinked and waved her hand towards the image of the AEsir assembling on Muspelheim.  “But enough prattling.  Asgard is about to confront Surtur and I refuse to miss a moment of it.”

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_I know, I'm just a big old tease.  And I've heard so many times people saying Loki needs a hug that I just had to do it.  The will was weak and the body was willing._

_**Next:** _

_A near disaster_


	14. Chapter 14

MUSPELHEIM

                Thor didn’t move position, his arms crossed as he stoically watched the forces of Asgard assemble.  The bi-frost was not a subtle transport.  Surtur was well aware of their arrival, the thousand foot tall fire demon currently half hidden within an oozing volcano but his flickering eyes were watching them.  He still wondered why Surtur didn’t attack but chose to wait.  The only answer Loki would give had been a half mumbled response about ego.  It was unlike Loki to forgo stealth but time was running out so Loki had agreed to a sacrifice of stealth for speed, because there was little doubt that Asgard would be doomed if they waited.  Considering the size of the fire demon, he would see them coming anyway.

                His friends were gathered together less than a dozen feet away.  There was still an air of wariness about them when they interacted, but the anger they held with him seemed to be fading.  He only wished Loki was as forgiving.  But then Thor felt himself smile.  It was a facet of Loki’s nature and as inconvenient as his brother could sometimes be, Thor wouldn’t change him.

                The smile faded as he watched Loki reappear from wherever he’d disappeared to.  It had just been for a few minutes yet his brother looked lighter, somehow.  “Brother?”  Loki glanced at him.  “Are you well?”

                A smirk pulled at the corner of Loki’s lips as he nodded.  A familiar smirk that Thor had seen during their adventures over the centuries.  A smirk that assured victory.  “Of course I am.”  Loki rubbed his hands together briskly with a spark of good humor.  Hela’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect.  He knew what he was going to do.  He was inches from his goal.  “Now then, how would the mighty Thor act?”

                Thor’s brow furrowed.  As much as he tried he would never completely grow accustomed to his brother’s ever changing moods.  “As you have stated I am not king--…”

                Loki just waved a dismissive hand.  “Oh, that.  That was just to remind you.  Now that we’ve established our roles I’m curious as to your response.”  When Thor didn’t appear eager to share Loki clarified.  “Consider it practice if I never produce an heir and name you as successor.”

                A pained expression crossed Thor’s face.  “Do not say such things, Loki.”

                Loki already had his arms crossed.  He impatiently tapped his bicep with a finger.  “I’m waiting.”

                Thor looked outward to assess the situation.  “I would prefer to divide the warriors so that we could attack in multiple directions simultaneously.”

                Loki was inclined to agree with him.  “Unfortunately we do not have the time and the planet is literally an enemy.”

                “It is a shame we cannot utilize the Bi-Frost to bring this to a swift end.”  At Loki’s frown he clarified what he meant.  “Jotunheim.”

                An unchecked grimace crossed Loki’s face.  Thor was referring to his previous actions when he had been steward and had attempted to use the Bi-Frost to drill a hole through Jotunheim.  “Ah.  No, that is not a possibility.”

                “Why?”

                Loki really didn’t want to answer that question.  “Because.”  Thor didn’t say anything, he just kept looking at him expectantly.  The trickster ground his teeth together before huffing.  “The world tree is perfectly balanced by nine realms.  Destroy one of those planets and it will lead to imbalance.  Yggdrasil could snap and in turn destroy all of us.”  Thor blinked at him in horror, his eyebrows hiking up towards his hairline.  It hadn’t occurred to him at the time.  But as Loki had spent weeks if not longer tumbling between the branches after letting go he’d had nothing but time to think about it.  Snarling at him, “I was having a bad day.  Shut up.”

                Thor gave Loki one of his censoring looks, as if he were the older and wiser brother and Loki was still not within his majority.  But instead of chiding him verbally for once Thor moved to more practical talk.  “Then we should employ the skiffs.  A dual assault by air as well as land could limit casualties.”

                “To what end?”  Loki had his head tilted slightly before he explained.  “You have discovered on Asgard that fire demons cannot be killed by steel.”

                Thor nodded slowly.  “We need to extinguish the fire.”

                Loki glanced up at the skies.  Skies that hadn’t seen a storm before.  “The storm can cool the planet enough to form a crust, assuming a storm could even be formed here.  But not even a flood will extinguish Surtur.”

                Now the thunderer glanced at his brother with a frown.  “Then what alternative is there, brother?”

                Loki bared his teeth.  “A spell.”

                There were immediate groans all around, the other four listening in.  Loki couldn’t keep his smirk from growing at their response.  They never asked for an explanation of how the spell worked.  For once that would work to his advantage. 

                The smirk on his face slipped as he watched Tyr and the others from the war council direct all of the warriors towards a series of crates that had been sent from Asgard on floating skiffs. The skiffs he’d ordered them to retrieve, what was on them he hadn’t.

                Fandral’s brow furrowed and he wasn’t the only one to look confused. AEsir carried their own weapons onto the battlefield.  “What are they doing?”

                Loki glanced down at the medium sized cylinders that were being passed out in distaste. They were effective in stopping forest fires, an invention crafted by the dwarves tens of millennium ago when fire broke out on Vanaheim and the Vanir turned to Asgard for aid.  The coolant was an unlimited supply.  Instead of dowsing the flame with water it froze it.

                Tyr was already ordering the warriors to fan out, laying down a suppressive layer of coolant that froze the fire demons in their tracks.  Loki sighed through his nose, mumbling under his breath as he started walking towards them.  “Saving me the trouble…”  He spoke louder as he asked a seemingly obtuse question, “General Tyr, what are you doing?”

                Tyr turned to Loki and bowed appropriately before responding.  “We need to cut through these smaller demons to smite Surtur…these weapons--…”

                Loki brushed his explanation away impatiently.  “I am well aware of what they are.  What is your strategy?”

                The men stuttered in their steps, watching the exchange between the two men.  Before Tyr could respond, Ing took a step forward.  He was a revered hero of the battlefield.  The man was even taller than Thor, wearing silver armor that shimmered and his jaw set in a hard line.  There was rage in his blue eyes but Loki wasn’t surprised.  He didn’t regret for an instant turning his son into a horse but he wasn’t foolish enough not to think that this man wasn’t going to be a pain in his ass.  Ing spoke louder so they could hear as well and know what was expected.  “Create a path directly to our objective.  The front line will lay suppression while the warriors prepare to charge.”

                Loki slowly narrowed his eyes. A perfect tactic for a basic fire if there were living, breathing targets on the other side.  The circumstances were slightly different since this fire was sentient and was, in fact, an extension of the enemy.  “You do realize you are not dealing with mere fire.”

                “Of course, sire.”

                Tilting his head slightly, Loki offered a more thorough hint. “There is nothing on this realm that doesn’t burn.”  Ing just continued to stare at him, not seeing Loki’s point.  Or perhaps he did see the point and just refused to listen to a man and a king he didn’t respect.  Talking just a little slower, irritated he had to spell it out.  “The warriors are just as flammable as a plank of wood.  A frontal assault is suicide.”

                “That is why the front line will be armed with these.”

                Odin had once accused him of talking in circles. Loki felt like he was in that sort of discussion right now and the AEsir in front of him either was simply this thick or was pretending not to understand. Loki tilted his head in the other direction, a line of frustration creasing between his eyebrows.  “Firstly, as every enemy here is wreathed and born by fire, what is the point in half of your warriors not armed thusly since you put so much stock into it?”

                “The first line will freeze our enemies and the secondary line will use sword and axe to smite them. They will work in concert to cut those frozen enemies down.”  Ing stood a little taller in his response, conviction in his tone.  The remainder of the war council were also nodding.

                “Secondly, Surtur will see you coming. Do not believe him an imbecile for he is not.”

                Tyr waited a moment before responding evenly, “My lord it is not a matter of questioning his intellect. He shall not have the fortitude to withstand our might.”  A cry of pride filled the air, a thousand voices lifting into the air to bolster their fellow warriors.

                Loki didn’t glance at them, trying a different tactic. “You would be better served with a dual assault.”

                “We will face our enemies as AEsir, not as cowards.” Ing was careful in his tone but Loki still felt as if the insult had been aimed in his direction.  For years he had spent being named a coward because of his sly style of fighting.

                Loki was not one for wasting his breath when much more effective lessons were available. He could order them returned to their crates, but these men would continue to hesitate following commands every step of the way and the remaining warriors would follow by example.

                Ing looked to press further and Loki waved a dismissive hand.  “Do as you wish.  Their defeat will be on your head.  Though they will journey gloriously to Valhalla on this day so that should please you.”  His voice was dripping with sarcasm at this point as he pivoted on his heels.  He moved to a central location before closing his eyes and whispering softly as his hands moved in an intricate manner.  He gestured outward and a small magical shell grew around him.  Not enough to encompass the entire camp, but enough to provide a temporary shelter.

                Thor’s brow furrowed ever so slightly in question but Loki just jerked his head slightly in the negative as he took up his previous position. Thor planted his feet and commanded his friends with a glance to do the same.  Loki looked straight ahead, watching Surtur in the distance as he spoke, “Hunther, you will remain at my side.”

                Thor glanced silently at his brother.  The name wasn’t important to him but he took the extra time to memorize it.  If anyone of Asgard held Loki’s loyalty, they were worth remembering.

                The guard, now at the rank of soldier, bowed and immediately moved, ignoring the objections forming on Tyr’s lips.  A dark look flickered in Loki’s green eyes and for just a moment Tyr forgot how to breathe.  He was not a coward.  If nothing else, he knew that about himself.  But he knew with clarity he didn’t want Loki’s response should he press the need for Hunther amongst the ranks.  The warrior decided to cut his losses, ordering the rest into position.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Odin made a disgruntled sound. “I taught him better than that.”  No one was really paying attention to the old monarch at this point.  Hela barely even spared him a glance.  “That boy knows how to give commands.”

                Farbauti rolled her eyes dramatically.  “And how would you respond?  Roar at them until they did as they were told?”

                “Yes, if necessary.”

                The Jotunn snorted.  “Such a wonderful example for they to follow.”  Now she glanced at him and asked snidely, “And how effective do you believe Loki would be in doing the same?”

                “All the more reason--…”

                Farbauti didn’t wait for him to finish, snarling at him, “The deaf, dumb, and blind leading more of the same.”

                “How dare--…”

                Hela studied Loki’s now impassive face carefully.  Yes, Loki knew how to give commands.  He wasn’t the best at inspiring loyalty but he knew how to win arguments.  But she supposed that was the point.  Loki was now king.  He shouldn’t have to win an argument to have the men follow his commands.  The war council wasn’t ready to trust the judgement of a young king.  Tyr had his own reasons but was letting others sway him and for Ing it was entirely personal.  “Children.”  She snapped this at the pair of them and they both subsided.  “It was my impression you taught Thor better than that, not Loki.”  Farbauti immediately sneered at him silently.

                “Taking a step back from Tyr makes him look weak.”  He bared his teeth slightly as he said this.

                Still watching, Hela raised a single eyebrow as she asked, “And are you afraid that is a reflection on him…or you?”

                Odin brushed off her question, lamenting on the past.  “He should never have allowed Thor to abdicate the throne.”

                “Why?”

                “Thor is the king Asgard will follow.”  Now Hela turned to look at him and he clarified.  “A king commands respect.  A man who cannot inspire obedience has no business being king.”

                “Of that we are agreed.”  A look down her nose at him told him he would never inspire her loyalty.  Hela glanced back at the image, leaning back comfortably in her throne for several long moment before shrugging.  “Loki merely uses the resources available to him.”  She smirked privately to herself.  “When those resources are men like these…he must inspire them differently.”

* * *

MUSPELHEIM

                Soon the men were posed three layers deep and weapons in hand.  Ing was at the front, his sword unsheathed and raised defiantly.  The formation reminded Loki of a battering ram and he knew it was going to be about as effective.  Tyr raised his fist in the air. “For Asgard.”

                Loki raised his own fist ever so slightly, mumbling under his breath. “Odin would be so proud.”  He fought the urge to roll his eyes.

                Thor’s brow was furrowed.  “I should call in the storm.”  He glanced quickly at Loki who paused for a moment before giving a tiny nod of permission.

                The thunderer hefted Mjolnir into the air.  The air around them thickened, but so did the oppressive feeling of the heat and fumes.  Thor’s eyes widened and he was quick to banish it, glancing at Loki again who lightly quirked an eyebrow.  “This is a realm without water.  What kind of storm could be generated?”

                Thor sputtered an objections, “You motioned--…”

                “Thor.”  Loki was about to waste his time convincing Thor it wasn’t going to work when letting him try and fail would be all that was required.  He cut Thor off with one word, his name.  Instead the trickster pointed.  “Watch.”

                War cries filled the air before a wave of cool met the heat of this planet.  Little fire demons were crawling out of the fiery cracks within the ground, freezing in mid motion as waves of coolant washed over them.  The men walked forward, their gait even and rhythmic.  Gauntlets struck breast plates as the thousands upon thousands that remained formed ranks and followed.

                Thor and the others stood up straighter but Loki just slowly shook his head.  They truly did resemble a battering ram now.  _Always a frontal assault. How disappointing_.

                “Brother, why do we not join them?”

                Loki didn’t even spare Thor a glance. “You may if you like but I shall now.”

                Thor blinked at him in surprise. “Why?”  He knew his brother wasn’t a coward.  He may not enjoy a frontal assault but Loki had never shied away from battle.

                Loki just shrugged casually. “Because this is going to fail spectacularly and I would prefer not to be trampled.”

                Sif frowned, realizing Loki was more than just arrogantly confident.  He was absolutely certain. “Sire, then order the men back.”

                _Now why would I do that when there was so much education in defeat_?  Some people had to learn the hard way and he knew the war council were those people.  Loki slowly lifted one eyebrow. “I will bow to the wisdom of seasoned veterans who has fought for Asgard’s glory longer than I have been alive.”

                Attention moved back outward as the ground started to crack and move.  Loki raised an intrigued eyebrow, the battering ram of warriors halted as **something** started to crawl out of the ground.  Similar in build to the other demons, this one had a lizard-like build with a body filled with flamed, sharp angles.  Dissimilar was the fact that this creature was nearly as long as the ranks of warriors were wide and well over thirty feet tall.  The heat forced the men at the front back several steps but none of them ran.

                Loki muttered softly, shaking his head as he glanced at Ing.  “He isn’t truly…”

                Hogun was frowning himself but none of them spoke as Ing bellowed his order to destroy the obstacle in their way.  Coolant tanks in hand, the creature was covered from end to end and froze in his tracks.  With a roar Ing thrust his sword forward and the creature shattered.  The great beast in their path did more than just shatter.  Frozen bits and pieces of it tumbled down into the ranks.

                A cheer rose through the air, Thor beaming with pride.  Loki didn’t react, he just watched.  Even as the men celebrated victory the heat from the distant mountains continued to spew forth fire and ash.  The celebration trailed off as Surtur started to laugh.  Deep and resonating, it filled the valley until it was the only sound heard. 

                The ice along the ground formed cracks, red heat showing within them.  As heat and ice collided, pockets of steam shot into the air.  Loki felt his jaw tighten and gave into the desire to make one last effort to spare the AEsir from the inevitable. “General Tyr, recall your men.”

                Tyr glanced back at him, frowning ever so slightly.  “Why, sire?  We are victorious.  We will be able to defeat Surtur just as easily.”  Loki’s expression went blank, just staring at Tyr.  Odin wouldn’t have been questioned.  But then that level of respect Loki wasn’t foolish enough to believe he would be offered.

                “Such weapons have been available since before Surtur was imprisoned the last time.  Do you truly believe this approach wasn’t attempted?”

                Thor had turned as well but as he studied Loki he could see no hint of amusement.  It was no bluff or trick.  He didn’t know the why but he trusted his brother had a good reason.  Putting authority into his tone. “You heard your king.  Recall them.” 

                Loki glanced at him in surprise. He didn’t even attempt to hide it, staring at the thunderer as if he’d never seen him before.  Thor never listened to him in the heat of battle.  On rare occasion Thor had bowed to the wisdom of a seasoned veteran but most of Loki’s suggestions were ignored and the rest he was chided for offering them.

                All of them jerked around as cries and bellows of pain filled the air.  The chunks of the great beast caught on fire as the ice melted, the fire burning everything it came in contact with.  The chunks shuddered and started to grow but eyes were riveted to pain and heat and death.  One of those chunks grew teeth and sank them into Ing’s abdomen.  The man bellowed in agony as he was engulfed in flames.

                A left hand formed a fist and shook a second before Loki bellowed a snarl, using magic to amplify his voice so the order carried. “RETREAT!”

                Thor was only a second behind, glancing at Loki before roaring. “By order of your king, fall back!”  The warriors 4 broke rank after a quick glance to Loki before wading into the thick of things to help the injured towards the small haven Loki had quickly constructed with his magic.

                Tyr jumped slightly as if poked before setting his jaw and running forward to assist those he could.  Those that could move unassisted didn’t have to be told twice, dragging with them those that couldn’t.  Surtur’s laughter only grew.

* * *

HELHEIM

                Odin stood silently, his face wiped clean of all emotion.  Even his eye was little more than a hard glint reflecting light as he stared.  Hela approached silently, the fingers of her left hand gliding over the surface and a strange little smile on her face.

                She knew the way Odin thought.  He didn’t see that he was culpable in this result.  He had worked so hard to boost Thor up in the eyes of his men that no other king could compare.  Unconscious or not, Odin had used Loki as the example of what not to aspire to be. 

                Loki throwing his weight around would be ineffective. He would be perceived as little more than a bully with power.  A spoiled child trying to get his way…or the lacking second son trying to pretend to be a mighty king.

                This was the most efficient way as well as the most effective and Loki was smart enough to know it. “Through pain and death he has proven the war council’s tactics to lack the necessary finesse for this particular foe.”  She turned her head enough to whisper in his ear as she passed and returned to her throne. “Now, he will inspire obedience.”

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_Sorry, my muse ran away, the bitch.  I had to wait for a replacement to come in the mail._

_**Next:** _

_The battle continues_


	15. Chapter 15

MUSPELHEIM

                It wasn’t what he thought it would be and the rage lost a little more of its hold over Loki.  Perhaps he had waited too long, but as he glanced at Thor he knew that wasn’t the reason.  Given the longevity of their race from a relative standpoint he could have maintained his anger for centuries longer.  It wasn’t shame that filled him and he didn’t regret his actions but it was as if the hesitation that he’d been struggling with for months had become an emotion all its own.  He’d never seen Thor look so grim, so grieved.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see the expressions on Sif’s and Volstagg’s face.  He could feel the tension in Hunther who stood a mere foot from him.  He didn’t like it.  The one time his plans didn’t completely blow up in his face and he found himself wishing they had. 

                His actions had been for the sake of vengeance, not revenge. He found little satisfaction from it since this retribution hadn’t been about him.  Asgard had been filled with weak, arrogant fools to believe they were impenetrable.  The capture of what turned out to be the dark elves had been sloppy and he wasn’t sure who he blamed more.  The AEsir deserved punishment…and now they had received it.  But of anyone, there was one who deserved the most blame and that person wasn’t here.  The man who had been in a position to see the pattern and had not acted.  The man who had allowed the requirements of the interior guard to slacken.  But the person who had failed her the most was no longer living.

                Loki looked outward and caught sight of Surtur laughing again and it was as if everything went silent.  An epiphany.  These were his mother’s people by marriage, since she was not AEsir, but they had become her people as she had become their queen.  He ignored the methods he chose because it was the results that mattered.  And the result was that now these were his people.  He was their king.  His will was their life.  They weren’t his enemy.  Thanos was his enemy.  The rage shifted and focused on a target.  Surtur was his enemy.  Slowly Loki bared his teeth as wisps of green magic slinked around him.  He held out his hand and a plank of wood ripped away from the boxes and flew into his waiting hand.

                Tipping the wood to the ground, he watched with a blank expression as it easily caught on fire.  The war council’s way could work at slowing Surtur down but it certainly wouldn’t stop him.  Even if he were willing to expose himself to Asgard as a Frost Giant by using the Casket of Ancient Winters he kept in his dimensional storage, which he wasn’t, it would be a similar blunt effect.  Surtur would be frozen but the magical fire that sustained the heart of him would eventually burn through. 

                Everything burned and it was only more fuel for Surtur’s advantage.  He thought of Hela’s spell that he’d already memorized.  His green eyes flicked in Surtur’s direction before focusing back on the flame consuming the wood.  Another flick to the left as he took in the injured as well as the dead, those still able to fight armed with those canisters to keep the fire back in addition to their weapons.  A green glow wrapped around his hand as he reached out until his skin was millimeters from the fire.  He suppressed a wince from the heat that scorched his skin.  He could feel his magic moving in sync with the energy that was necessary to maintain the flame and formed a purposeful fist.  At the center the fire popped outward and was immediately extinguished.  He glanced at his hand, to see the red on his skin.  It was a minor burn, it would heal.  But he also understood the significance.  He nodded to himself in understanding.

                _It could work_.  Loki exhaled slowly before he pushed doubt to the side.  If he had learned nothing else, only when he allowed doubt to crowd in did he fail. _No, this will work_.

                While Loki was focused on a solution to this disaster, Fandral had focused on the men.  Those that had died as well as those that had survived.  More than a few of them were glaring at Tyr when his back was turned. 

                Tyr hadn’t been directly involved in the battle that killed Fandral’s father, but it had been a superior officer who had made a bad call during it that had left him fatherless. Fandral felt those old emotions sweep over him and now he asked what he’d wished he’d been old enough to ask after his father had died as he approached, “Are you quite pleased with yourself, General?”

                Tyr didn’t even glance in his direction.  “I am never pleased with defeat.”

                The blond warrior paused. “Then why would you ignore a tactician?”  It’s not that Loki had a formal title to that effect, but it was a quietly known strength of his.

                The general fought to maintain his temper. “I do not need to hear opinions from a lower rank.”

                Fandral stepped into his line of sight.  “Since you don’t want to heed the opinions of a higher rank I thought you might find it refreshing.”

                Tyr growled softly, anger at himself getting wrapped up in this discussion that was about to turn ugly.  “You are fortunate you are not still within my direct command--…”

                Fandral took a step closer, boldly daring this man without words to act as common sense flew right out the window.  “What could you possibly do?”  Sif and the others finally seemed to realize matters were escalating and moved to drag Fandral back.  While it was understood that the warriors 3 were companions of Thor and they currently had the king’s ear, none of them had actually put that perceived protection to the test.

                “My friend.  Matters are far too grim to resort to fighting amongst ourselves.”  Volstagg succeeded in leading Fandral away with an arm around his shoulders while Sif turned to glare at Tyr over her shoulder.

                While Tyr was known for being even tempered, that control had already been pushed past the breaking point.  He was also well aware that the way her body was positioned Sif was seconds from physically reacting.  “Step back, warrior.”  Tyr barked the command.

                Sif pivoted on her heel to regard him fully.  “I invite you to force me.”

                “This is my final--…”

                She cocked her head ever so slightly and interrupted him, “You still haven’t answered his question.”  She moved the distance, her palm caressing the hilt of her sheathed weapon in an unspoken threat.  “Are you pleased?  Are you satisfied now that these men are dead because of you?”  She stepped closer and hissed, “Would you have dared to defy Lord Odin as you have our king?”

                Tyr’s arm tensed to shove the warrioress away since he wouldn’t actually harm a lower rank when he was knew of how tempers flared during war.  But he stumbled back a step when Loki was suddenly between them, an invisible blow to Tyr’s face causing his balance to falter.  It was a magical attack that one would liken to a slap to the face.  It stunned the general but it didn’t actually hurt him.  Loki didn’t turn his head as he softly chided her.  “Sif.  I did not give you permission to do my work for me.”  Sif blinked, some of the anger and tension in her body fading.  Now Loki turned enough to smirk over his shoulder.  “Annoying the general is my self-appointed task.”

                Sif’s felt her own lips twitch before she took a step back and bowed with a fist to her heart.  “Forgive me, sire.”

                After a pause for Loki to give a slight nod, she rejoined the others.  Loki focused back on the general who had regained his balance.  He spoke louder than necessary but he did it with a reason, “You can throw yourself at Surtur if you like, Tyr, but not a single man will be ordered to comply with your further commands that aren’t approved by myself.  Do you still have issue or are you prepared to obey your sovereign?”  The surrounding soldiers and lower ranked warriors were all staring hard at the general.

                Tyr swallowed his pride and for once ignored the men that made up the war council sputtering behind him.  “No, sire.”

                “Good.”  The surrounding tension faded and the men returned to their injured comrades.  Loki looked as if he were about to turn before he froze and lowered his voice.  “Oh, and I wish to make one fact very clear.”  The trickster took two steps forward until he was uncomfortably invading Tyr’s personal space.  Sharp, black claws replaced his fingernails and he dug them into the front of Tyr’s armor to keep him from stepping back.  AEsir armor was not a simple, weak metal like iron or steel.  Yet the claws formed noticeable marks.  Loki was not one for drawing lines.  He preferred to play outside of them.  But since these men seemed determined to test his resolve he was feeling generous enough to oblige them.  “In the future if either by hand or by weapon you attempt to harm Fandral, Sif, Hogun, Volstagg, or Thor I will cut off your head…personally.”  He purred the last word and showed the general the means in which he would remove his head when he wiggled his fingers and bared his teeth.  “And yes, they are quite real when I wish them to be.”  He took in Tyr’s surprise and asked, “Is that also understood?”

                Tyr glanced down at the pointed, black claws on pale fingers that had left some impressive gouges in his armor.  He’d seen similar claws capable of such markings once before.  But that was a memory from over a thousand years ago.

                Suddenly some things that hadn’t made sense to him did. But he didn’t speak of it.  He wouldn’t even allow himself to think of it.  But he also lost a lot of respect for Odin.  Respect that had been reduced and strained when the All-Father had taken from Vanaheim his war-bride…and now this…

                He nodded his head deeply instead, “Yes, sire. I understand and obey.”  He had seen Loki as the lacking second son who had been given a birthright because no one else wanted it.  Now he saw differently.  He saw a man who’d had a choice of not only which realm to rule, but of which species he would call his people.  His choice was to call the AEsir his own.

                Loki narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, not certain where Tyr’s sudden impulse to use formal address came from even though he didn’t suspect treachery.  “Thor…”  Thor turned instantly, Mjolnir in hand and ready to fight.  Sif, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun; all of them focused on Loki.  They would fight to their last breath.  And it was a possibility it would be their last breath if it didn’t work.  Loki just nodded slowly to himself and turned away from Tyr, decision made. “Organize the men to unload the skiffs.  I also want four of those canisters.  I know how to defeat him.”

* * *

ASGARD

                The mass exodus from Asgard was an organized affair for all of its haste.  Families were wrapped tightly around one another, little to no possessions accompanying them beyond the clothes on their backs.  Their lives were more important than mere possessions.

                After three days the constant tremors had almost become normal.  So when they stopped everyone paused.  Heimdall’s golden eyes turned away from the controls, looking out of the golden dome.  Even at the end of the Bi-frost the tremors that had shaken the golden realm for three days had been felt.  Their sudden lack was disturbing.

                Eir, the most respected healer of Asgard, continued to shoo families into position with her professional mask firmly in place.  A page at her side marked through each name to ensure that no one was left behind.  There were two guards positioned on either side of the dome entrance, to maintain order.  They both shifted nervously, feeling something heavy in the air.  As if something was about to happen.

                The crowd had thinned, a few dozen families still on Asgard, along with a few warriors to protect those that remained until the golden realm was empty.  A trio of warriors moved from street to street, hustling along stragglers.  The oldest of the group stopped to look over the once thriving city that was almost empty.

                He slowly shook his head to himself.  Generation had been born and grown up here over thousands of years.  Never had a threat been so grave that it had been abandoned.  How had it all come to this?

                He looked down, feeling it again and almost sighing in irritation.  The tremors were back.  But unlike before they kept escalating.  But sound and fury followed, a wall of indescribable sound that became a roar.  The warriors with him covered their ears as the sound became so loud it was almost deafening.  The walls started to crack.  The shaking intensified until it was nearly impossible to remain standing.  Statues tipped over and broke upon impact.

                He looked to the mountains in dread.  It was happening.

* * *

MUSPELHEIM

                The six skiffs were cleared of all cargo.  Loki spend a few minutes tinkering with the internal circuitry of each of the four canisters, essentially removing the need for them to be manually operated, before instructing his comrades to load them onto a skiff.  Loki nodded to himself before turning to Tyr. “Wait as long as you can before sending men to Vanaheim.”

                “These men are in need of aid, sire.”  His argument had less to do with pride and more to do with concern over the men that remained.

                Loki didn’t even attempt to temper his tongue, snapping at him, “Yes, most assuredly they are…because of you.”

                “We had no way of knowing--…”

                Loki cut him off viciously.  “I believe I explained myself quite clearly.”  The words were spoken with an exaggeration of care.  Thor winced, well familiar with the tone.  Loki had used it against him more than once when his brash actions had nearly cost one of their group their life.  It was a Loki well and truly pissed off, letting sarcasm and disdain saturate his voice.  “But you chose to ignore the advice of your king and this is the result.”

                “I--…yes, sire.”

                Green sparked in his eyes, letting Tyr see every ounce of the rage that remained and the general fell mute. “We are done with discussions.  Now, you will listen to me.”  Loki glanced over the wounded lying next to the dead.  “Heimdall is evacuating Asgard, General Tyr.  I should think some precedence needs to be given to the women and children.”

                “These men fought bravely.”  Tyr stiffened just a little in protest.

                “They fought, for Asgard. They died, for Asgard.  A sacrifice that would not be necessary were it not for your stupidity.”  Loki’s eyes moved enough to encompass several of the war council standing near in that statement.  Tyr’s mouth opened, but he wisely if forcibly shut it again without speaking.  “They fought not just for the realm, but for their families.  It would be a poor repayment of that sacrifice for their families to die.” 

                Tyr pulled in a slow breath and nodded obediently.  “What should we do, sire?”

                “Why do you think that Surtur has not stormed the distance?”  The men listening turned to regard Surtur who was almost casually standing, watching and waiting.  Loki explained further, “He perceives us as his playthings.  So long as we remain, he will wait for us to go to him.”  Horror raced across their faces.  Protest seemed likely to follow so Loki kept talking.  “This is not a creature that will obey the honorable rules of combat.  If we attempt to leave, even just to evacuate the injured, he will obliterate us and move on to the next.”

                One of the warriors at the back asked softly, “How do you know this?”

                The trickster quirked an eyebrow in his direction as if the answer was obvious.  “There are no warriors on Asgard, yet our realm is still destined to be consumed along with the women and children that remained behind.”  He paused for a moment before he asked, “Does that tell you nothing?”  Then there was also past precedent.  This was not the first time Surtur had fought the realms.  From that past example it was quite obvious he wanted to destroy all trace of their species, which spoke of an adversary that didn’t adhere to the methods and beliefs that AEsir fought by.

                “Then you will use these men as bait.”

                Loki was ready for that retort.  “A diversion, actually.”  Because for them it was all about the semantics of a word.  “Bait implies that I wish him to cross the distance.”  It might be unavoidable but it wasn’t a reaction from Surtur that Loki wanted.  At least, not anymore.  “I do not.  There will be nothing left of us if that occurs.”

                “Should we not move them out of the line of fire, at least?”

                Loki just looked at Tyr before sighing softly. “Where on this forsaken rock would there be shelter?  The very planet is an enemy.”  Gesturing towards the magic shell.  “This is a temporary solution and the only one.”  Tyr moved as if to speak and Loki held up a halting hand.  “Spare me.  My patience with your defiance has ended, General Tyr.  Thor can take your place if you prefer before any more of **my** men die needlessly because of you.”  Thor silently stood a little taller, jaw set and eyes hard.  Obviously the elder brother was ready to take over as general if needed.

                Tyr wanted to protest that that hadn’t been his intention but he swallowed those words.  He could feel the eyes of the men injured on the pair of them and felt the weight of those stares.  No general was perfect, just as no man was.  But a true AEsir warrior stepped beyond their ego when victory was at stake.  “What is your will, my lord?”

                 “Separate the wounded from the dead.” Tyr looked horrified but for once he wisely held his tongue so Loki felt generous enough to explain further.  “They will not be forgotten, but focus should be given to the living…the dead can wait.”  Loki fanned his arm out in a half moon shape.  “Of those able to fight, form a perimeter.  A few will accompany me to keep Surtur occupied but do not underestimate him.  His little fiery companions I expect will still keep trying to increase the death toll.”  Loki glanced at Surtur before turning his attention back to Tyr.  “Most importantly.  If we fail Vanaheim will be his next likely target.”  Tyr felt a jolt of surprise, but there was also respect in those blue eyes.  So focused on the now, it didn’t occur to him to consider future targets.  “Warn them if they haven’t had the brains to heed my earlier missive, then retreat to Alfheim.  AEsir and Vanir might combined with elven intellect may be the only way to stop him.”

                Tyr felt like a fool.  The son that had been dismissed by the warriors and he realized it had been a mistake.  Before him was a strategist that might very well be even more clever than his father.  What made it more shameful was that he had been one of the ones that trained Loki.  He should have taken the time to see beyond the surface.  He clenched his hand to his heart with a bow of his head. “Sire.”

                Loki turned, refusing to allow the irritation he felt to show across his face.  He could never get the respect he deserved through easy means.  Instead he smirked before he turned, projecting arrogance like a cloak.  He rubbed his hands together as he approached his small group of co-conspirators. “Now for the fun part.”

                Thor stepped forward.  “I wish to fight beside you, brother.”

                Loki just smirked expectantly.  “You will.  After all, I have something that requires to be hit really hard.”  The trickster gestured in Surtur’s direction.  It was almost a running joke between the pair of them.  Thor’s solution to everything involved hitting it.  He formed a battle grim smile and hefted Mjolnir.  Loki would expect nothing less from Thor.  He glanced to his right at the blond warrior who was watching and waiting expectantly.  “Fandral, you are the most skilled in maneuvering a skiff.”

                Fandral held his fist to his heart, bowing his head slightly.  “I would be honored, sire.”

                He looked at the others and knew some of them were not going to be happy with him.  Just to cut down on the arguments, he used his right hand to lift four of the skiffs into the air by manipulating the controls with magic so they had no choice.

                Hogun looked as grim as ever. “You wish us to remain.”

                Loki pointed at him.  “Not you.  I have a special task for you.”

                The mostly silent warrior gave him a considering look before he asked, “Dangerous?”

                “Of course.  It is most likely you won’t survive.” Something like grim amusement lit Hogun’s eyes as he nodded ever so slightly and boarded the remaining skiff with the four modified canisters.  At Loki’s nod, Fandral boarded the same skiff and took over the controls.  As king Loki didn’t have to explain anything, yet he chose not to ignore these people.  No.  If only to himself he would label them correctly.  He would explain what he needed of…his friends.  Turning to Sif and Volstagg.  “I require you to defend the warriors that remain here.”  For a moment the pair of them looked to object, neither wanting to be left behind when there was a glorious fight ahead.  But they both held their tongues, not about to publicly undermine Loki’s authority.

                “Why are we not evacuating them, sire?”  Sif asked with the slightest of frowns.  But unlike Tyr her question was one that was seeking clarification only.  She trusted that he had a good reason.

                “All in good time, Sif.”  A flicker of an impish grin pulled at his lips before he hid it.

                Fandral mastered the controls easily.  “We’re ready, sire.”  He stood tall, Thor turning to glance at Loki to await his word.

                Loki’s lips twitched, speaking to Thor.  “Try to operate these controls just a little better.”  He was reflecting on their escape from Asgard in a borrowed dark elf ship that had done a good bit of damage to Asgard due to Thor’s poor piloting skills.

                Thor had an instant scowl ready for him as he fiddled with a few switches.  “At least I can fly.”

                Loki scoffed.  “You throw your hammer and get tugged along for the ride.  That’s not flying.  You’re a child’s kite.”  At Thor’s confused expression over what a kite was, Loki waved a dismissive hand, refusing to explain Midgardian toys.  Loki didn’t glance at the men around him.  His attention was focused on Sif who stared calmly back.  After a hesitant moment he bent just enough to whisper almost silently in Sif’s ear.  Quiet enough that no sound carried.  Her eyes widened, staring straight ahead over Loki’s shoulder and not making a sound.  Then he continued forward, not looking back.  He paused for just a moment longer next to Hunther, and murmured softly, “Fight bravely, not stupidly.”  Then he leapt lightly onto the topless transport.

                Thor frowned as his brother came to stand next to him but Loki didn’t return his glance.  There was a moment that hovered in the air, the comrades all silently exchanging looks before they were separated as all the skiffs disappeared as if they had never been there, shrouded by magic.  Sif still didn’t utter a word, pressing her lips together firmly.

                Volstagg looked like he was trying to be cheerful but not succeeding particularly well.  “They’ll be victorious and return soon enough.”

                Sif still didn’t reply, Loki’s softly spoken words repeating over and over in her mind.

                _“I have not the time for regrets Lady, save once. I recall a young girl I was most infatuated with…and like most young men I knew no better than to tease and torment to gain her attention.  I regret that if I had been braver, I would have sought to court her.”_

                Her mind kept turning, trying to figure out why he would tell her something like that now.  They were civil now, perhaps they even considered themselves friends, but it had been centuries since Sif had entertained such feelings for the trickster.  A mad crush that had ended in despair and bitterness with the loss of her golden hair.  Although now that she understood that the loss hadn’t been at his hand she just felt confused and mourned a lost opportunity.

                Loki was always so careful to keep everything hidden. She couldn’t figure out why he would just offer her such a truth that she could viciously use to humiliate him.  But in the back of her mind she held a suspicion.  A suspicion that perhaps…that had been his way of saying goodbye.  She swallowed once, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

ASGARD

                Screams echoed throughout Asgard, the remaining citizens running for the bridge.  An explosion threw them all off their feet, eyes lifting as pillars of smoke filled the air from mountains that no longer had peaks.  Unlike a natural volcano there was no more waiting.  Ash and fire started to rain down from the sky.  Mothers covered their whimpering children.  Men not trained or unfit for combat sheltered their families or lifted a hand to protect their eyes.  They were seconds from being engulfed and they awaited the inevitable.

                Heimdall and Eir both took steps onto the bridge. There were still people here and neither of them would leave until there was no choice.  Yet those that were looking up felt their mouths drop open in amazement as the shooting rock and fiery debris encountered a black and green magical bubble that was sheltering the city from impact.

                They didn’t stop to wonder, although many shouted their praises to their king since he was the most well-known seidmadr and they assumed this was his work.  As soon as they were able they picked themselves up and ran.  Heimdall and Eir stood side by side, seeing the remaining citizens running towards them and watching the volcanic debris bounce off a magical shield to tumble to the side.  Magma was oozing out of the mountain top, leaving a fiery trail of charred destruction in its wake.  But the path was diverted away from the city and ended in the water.

                Both of them knew what Loki’s magic looked like when it manifested.  Depending on the spell, sometimes it had a golden sheen to it but it was almost always green.  A very specific green and this magical shell was not that color as black had never been mixed with his spell work.  This was close, but different.  They both shared a look, wondering how this had happened and who was responsible.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_So I had this request concerning Tyr and I thought it would be awesome to add.  If I'm successful, you won't even notice the change unless you read the previous incarnation of this story.  Hopefully it's seamless._

_**Next:** _

_The real fight_


	16. Chapter 16

HELHEIM

                Odin was blinking slowly with his brow heavily furrowed.  He’d witnessed it all silently.  When he did speak, it was a statement that revealed shock and surprise…and something more.  A statement that was the tiniest of steps towards the All-Father of Asgard actually admitting to himself that perhaps, just perhaps, he could be mistaken.

                “They yielded.”

                Many of the ghosts huffed while many more exchanged looks of disgust.  There was a general consensus of groaning that immediately commenced.  The humans glanced at one another and mouthed insults about him to each other.  The elves and more aloof creatures looked down their noses at him.  Hela and Farbauti shared a look with one another at the same time and both of them rolled their eyes.

* * *

MUSPELHEIM

                “What are we doing, sire?”  Fandral asked while steering the skiff that he and Hogun were occupying.

                “As I said, your task is the dangerous one.”  The skiffs were traveling at the same pace and direction next to one another.  Even though they were traveling fast, it would be nothing for a person to walk from one to the other with ease.  Which is exactly what Loki did, ignoring the aborted noise Thor made in objection.  He handed Hogun a small map of the area, with four points highlighted.  “Your task will be to position these four canisters at these coordinates.”

                “Won’t the flamed beast see us coming?”

                “No, but once you leave the skiff you will be visible.”  Hogun nodded slowly to himself in understanding while Thor frowned at Loki.  “Cloaking spells can only do so much as we don’t have the luxury of time.  When nothing happens Surtur will approach the warriors out of boredom.”

                Fandral glanced around in sudden surprise.  He could see his comrades quite easily.  “He cannot see us now?”

                Loki smirked just a little.  With the two skiffs touching he was able to extend one shared cloaking spell over all of them at once.  Surtur couldn’t see their approach.  But as long as they were sharing the same spell they would be able to see the fire demon as well as each other.  Once the skiffs separated they would have individual spells so they wouldn’t be able to see one another unless they were both on the same skiff.  Well, it was his spell so he could add and remove it at will, which would become part of the entertainment.  “No.  But the spell only surrounds the skiff and those on it.”  He focused on the objective with Hogun.  “Once the canister is placed, activate it.  It will continuously emit coolant.”

                Fandral asked curiously, “What will you be doing while we’re planting these?”

                Loki’s smirk grew mischievously. “Thor and I will be the entertainment.”

                “Should I tell him jokes?”  Thor seemed to ask this with all seriousness.

                Loki’s shudder was not just for show.  “The nine realms will thank me for destroying you if you do so.”  The thunderer huffed at him good naturedly.

                “To what end, sire?”  Hogun was strictly focused on practicality.

                If Hogun did this right, the four canisters would form a very large square.  “With these activated it should provide enough moisture in the air for Thor to call in a storm.”

                Thor smiled grimly.  “This plan is agreeable to me.”

                “I thought you would enjoy that.”  Loki rolled his eyes at Thor, but there was a tease in his gaze as well.  He sobered and pointed to a spot that was in the middle of the formation of canisters.  “If we can lure him here, I should be able to freeze him.”

                “How?”

                There was a certain look that entered Loki’s eyes as he stared at Thor and answered cryptically.  “A weapon I borrowed from the Vault.”  Loki wasn’t about to give the specifics, because Hogun was clever enough to know that his use of the Casket of Ancient Winters would be suspicious.  But he wasn’t able to keep the anger that he still retained out of his eyes.

                The thunderer slowly nodded, not about to ask for anything more specific. Not after that expression.  Instead he asked, “This will destroy him?”

                “No.”  Loki smirked at Fandral.  “But that is where your expertise in piloting will be most useful.”  Fandral paid attention.  “You will need to fly us close, so that the spell I will use will destroy him.”

                “Close, sire?”

                Loki’s smirk had a grim edge to it.  A bit of gallows humor.  “Close enough to burn us to cinders if we’re not successful.”

* * *

                Surtur found the pathetic AEsir attempts to defeat him too amusing.  He had lived for quite a long time and had a very long memory.  Their first attempt today was exactly the same as when the AEsir had sought to defeat him before.  In all this time they hadn’t changed.  How tragic a species, who didn’t learn from history.  He, however, did, and he had no intention to allow himself to be imprisoned once more.

                He tilted his massive head slightly as he looked down at the skiff that hovered before him. It moved slowly upward, holding a single passenger.  It would be so easy to destroy it but he waited.  Surtur knew by the armor it was Asgard’s young king.  He wanted to look this arrogant king in the eye before destroying him.

                Surtur chuckled deeply, the sound feeling like an earthquake as the world trembled slightly from it.  “Do you truly believe you can destroy me, boy?”

                Loki crossed his arms loosely over his chest, humming softly before replying.  “Hmm…perhaps not destroy you, but you will be stopped.”

                “Such an arrogant fool…”

                Loki blinked and asked as if shocked, “Arrogant?”  He then grinned by baring his teeth.  “Yes, I suppose I am.  But fool I am not.”

                Surtur glanced over as he watched one of the AEsir disembark from a hidden transport to place something on the ground.  The fire demon grimaced as he felt a wave of cool air emit from it and travel up into the sky.  A second later the AEsir vanished once more.  The device’s effect was a mild irritation but nothing more.  Surtur looked down on his adversary with contempt. “You bring toys to a battle?  Your AEsir tactics bore me.  You have not evolved since the beginning…and a species that cannot evolve falls.”

                The trickster snickered quietly.  “Also true, but then I am not static.  I am change.  I have evolved and I will continue to do so.”

                “You will die.”

                Loki smirked slyly. “Eventually, but not yet.”

                Amusement curled his lip and without pause Surtur’s fist came down to smash the skiff.  His humor ended in a pained snarl as Mjolnir smashed into his flamed flesh, causing him to miss, before the hammer flew off around him.  Flames literally leapt into his eyes, focusing his rage on the skiff instead of trying to locate Thor.  Only his fist connected with nothing.  The warriors in the distance all flinched in preparation and could only stare in surprise as the image of the skiff flickered and faded.  Surtur snarled as twenty more skiffs slowly rose into the air to surround him, each of them occupied by Loki and a cheer broke out amongst the warriors.

                Surtur’s flamed eyes narrowed, roaring in anger.  But instead he focused that rage on Hogun who had just placed the second canister.  He stomped his foot into the ground, the burnt soil cracking and opening a fiery fissure in its wake.  The moving fissure was targeted and followed Hogun as he ran and dodged back to where the skiff should be. 

                But Hogun miscalculated and ran into the edge of the hidden transport, falling onto his back with a grunt. A hand extended out of nothing, Fandral, and Hogun grabbed it.  They both disappeared from sight a second before flames engulfed the area.

                “NO!”  Thor snarled the words before he used Mjolnir’s momentum to hurl himself forward.

                All the Loki doubles sighed in unison.

                For a tall being Surtur was surprisingly quick and used both flamed hands to capture Thor in his grip.  Cries of dismay and horror broke out amongst the AEsir and Sif stiffened.

                Surtur’s brief look of triumph faded as he opened his palms to see that he was empty handed. From the shrouded skiff Loki stared down his nose at Thor who was sprawled on his back, unimpressed with his tactics.  It had been a well-timed teleport and that was the only reason that Thor wasn’t currently barbeque.  Loki leaned down and hissed, “Idiot.”

                Thor looked over his shoulder as he watched Hogun appear and place the third canister, a distracted Surtur entirely unaware, before he grinned up at his brother.  “But it worked.”

                Loki sniffed imperiously and turned to teleport away.  “Which does not negate the reality that you are an idiot.”

                Thor rolled back to his feet, his tone insistent, “It still worked--…”

                “Thor.”  Loki snapped the word at him and if anything Thor’s grin broadened.  “Desist attempting to goad me and do something useful.”  The trickster sighed once more before pointing to the sky as a hint where true clouds were starting to form for the first time in living memory before he vanished.

                Thor yelled after him.  “It’s not an attempt if it works, brother!”

                Surtur picked a skiff at random a second before feeling the bite of lightening. Slowly he turned his head to the left, seeing Thor on the skiff as the cloaking spell faded.  The thunderer was directing the lightning with Mjolnir.  Surtur fairly sneered as he spoke, “I might find such a trick impressive if I were mortal.”

                “Trick?”  Thor felt like he’d been punched in the chest.  Never had his might been compared or dismissed as a trick.

                Disdain filled Surtur’s tone, “I am a fire demon, weather witch.”  From the shadows Loki felt a smile stretch across his face at hearing such words directed at Thor.  Surtur continued speaking, neither of them seeing Loki.  “You would be better served producing a storm, assuming such could be done here.”  Surtur didn’t hesitate, sending a ball of flame at him. Thor fought with the controls but the skiff wasn’t capable of moving fast enough.  Luckily he was able to turn and use Mjolnir like a bat, deflecting the impact.  He hissed but otherwise ignored the burns on his hands and arms as magic cloaked around him and hid him from sight as he moved.

                Surtur jerked this way and that, searching for Loki.  He could feel the bite of cold magic but not find the source, hidden from sight by a cloak of magic.  He bellowed and swatted, sometimes at nothing and other times at skiffs that proved to be empty.  He was completely unaware of the fourth canister being placed.

                Suddenly the fire demon paused. He honed in on the distant warriors and decided on another tactic.  He called his fiery minions forth and sent them to smite the remaining AEsir.  He ignored the skiffs, the illusions fading as he strode through them, intent on his targets.  Those able to fight fanned out, a line of protection for those too injured.  Sif and Volstagg worked with Tyr, ordering the men into position.  Instead of using their weapons to smash their opponents, this time the coolant was used as a delaying wall.  When the ice melted the numbers were the same, a second before another wave would freeze them again. 

                Thor saw Surtur’s intent and clenched his jaw as he called in the storm, thankful the gases and fumes were balanced against the heavy moisture in the air. A second later it started to rain.  The sound of hisses and clouds of mist filled the air, which only granted more fuel for the storm as the rain started to intensify.  The small fire demons howled in pain as they were extinguished, the rain helping the time the larger creatures were frozen to lengthen.

                Surtur roared, his flamed foot sticking to the ground, fusing to a bed of ice that the canisters had been silently creating when combined with the rain.  He jerked as much as he was able, seeing out of the corner of his eye a small skiff flicker before appearing as the cloak of magic hiding it dissipated.  The Asgardian king stood alone on the platform, a relic clutched tightly in both of his blue hands and his red eyes burning with hatred.

                The fire demon blinked in surprise, knowing a Jötunn by sight.  “You…you cannot be.”

                Loki had chosen his spot strategically.  Hidden within the shadow of the volcano so that no one could see him.  The path of the casket froze one leg and then the other.  Loki bared his teeth at Surtur. “I told myself the same, yet here I am.”

                “They will betray you.”  Surtur roared in pain as the ice and frost moved to immobilize him further, the rain cooling the fire within him.

                Loki smirked bitterly as he retorted. “You have to trust to be betrayed.” Trust that at one time had been freely given to Odin.  Trust that now he guarded with the ferocity of a dragon protecting a clutch of eggs.

                “This will not defeat me!”

                Loki was brutally efficient, muttering under his breath. “It doesn’t have to.  It just has to slow you down.”

                Surtur roared again and fought but there was no denying the icy power of the Casket of Ancient Winters.  It wouldn’t hold forever.  It wouldn’t even hold for long, but then it didn’t need to.  Just long enough was all that was needed.

                As soon as Surtur was frozen from bottom to top Loki banished the Casket of Ancient Winters back to dimensional storage, feeling himself breathe again as the blue immediately receded.  Through the frozen enemies the AEsir were able to see Surtur frozen and a cheer broke out amongst them.  Volstagg thrust a victorious fist into the air but Sif remained grim and focused.

                Loki moved back to the skiff that Thor was occupying with a thought. A wave of his hand and the skiff with Fandral and Hogun appeared.  The duo moved quickly and all four of them moved to the same transport.

                “You did it.”  Thor nodded with pride at Loki as he spoke.  He had no idea as to how it was done and he knew better than to ask as he would never understand Loki’s magic.

                Loki flicked his eyes in his brother’s direction.  “Not yet.  This won’t hold him for long.”  All three men shifted uncomfortably while Loki looked over the edge to judge the distance between the skiff and Surtur’s head.  He exhaled slowly, suddenly wishing there was another way.  He didn’t know why now of all times his survival instincts had to kick in.  He suddenly wished he’d done this all differently.  “Fandral, move the skiff closer.”

                Fandral blinked, glancing at Thor nervously as he asked, “Closer, sire?”

                “There.”  Loki pointed to a specific area and with a swallow Fandral grasped for courage he didn’t feel and piloted the skiff.

                Thor watched his brother silently as Loki’s eyes closed, deep in concentration.  Loki’s lip curled, fists clenching and feeling magic dancing against his skin.  He had no doubt that he was glowing green but it was just like his manipulation of fire.  One had to risk being singed to put out flames with magic.

                “Is this close enough, sire?”  Fandral knew this was where Loki indicated but that didn’t mean the trickster king wouldn’t change his mind.

                Loki nodded slowly and Fandral looked relieved.  The audible cracks of the ice breaking apart caught their attention.  It wouldn’t be long before Surtur was free once more.  “Once he is free I will manipulate the element at the core of him with magic.  You will have seconds to steer clear of the blast radius.  Be ready for my signal, Fandral.”

                “Blast--…”  Fandral looked from one man to the other as he asked, “What signal, sire?”

                “You’ll know.”  Loki smirked ever so slightly.

                “Brother?”  Loki slowly turned his head, locking eyes with Thor who looked expectant.  There was no doubt in those blue eyes that he would succeed.  “Put out the fire and we will return to Asgard victorious.”

                Surtur would not just be caged but defeated. But Surtur was over a thousand feet tall.  To get close enough to destroy the core of the demon he would have to literally be within the creature.  The nine realms would continue forward.  Thanos would not have his prize.  Not through him.  This was a good death.

                Hate and love. They’d battled for dominance in Loki’s conflicted mind and heart for years.  Centuries.  Some years he hated Thor more than anything and others the reverse was true.  Perhaps he did forgive Thor just enough to not wish his death.  After all, he wouldn’t have died for Thor if he hadn’t forgiven the thunderer for what had been.  But an heir was needed to keep the vault secure.  Asgard would need a good king and Thor was finally worthy of that duty.

                Loki looked back outward, making sure his voice was heard and carried.  “I name you as successor to the throne of Asgard, Thor Odinson.”  Thor started to frown and Loki shrugged lightly.  “I have no heir.  Someone has to sit on the throne.”

                “Loki, I do not challenge you--…”

                The ice shattered, flames engulfing Surtur once more. The fire demon bellowed with laughter, held tilted backward.

                “I know.”  Loki didn’t at the beginning, certain that the throne meant everything to Thor.  He was wrong, even if he would never admit that out loud.  He wasn’t the forgiving sort.  Thor’s missed opportunity concerning Odin’s funeral rites may be equal to his missed chance to say goodbye to Frigga but as far as he was concerned he would never forgive or forget.  At least, he had thought so. 

                But Thor did the one thing that he didn’t think the thunderer could do. Not just forgive him for all he had done, which was a given since the older man forgave him too often.  But had stood by him as king.  Thor had accepted it without anger or resentment.  Loki hadn’t counted on that. 

                So much Loki thought about saying that he either wouldn’t or couldn’t. He looked back over his shoulder and allowed a rarely seen, genuine smile to spread across his face.  A smile that brought awed looks from both of his companions and Hogun to blink in surprise.  Loki spoke softly, but he knew that Thor had heard him.  “Goodbye, brother.”

                Realization flashed in Thor’s eyes as Loki started to run forward.  Thor was the mightiest AEsir warrior to have ever walked the realms…but Loki had always been faster.  Thor leapt as Loki did, his outstretched hand wrapping around nothing as Loki spun in mid-air, a smirk on his lips as words poured out of his mouth and his fingers moved intricately as he fell.

                Loki felt like his fall was infinite.  A few short years ago, he fell to run away from himself.  There were many reasons wrapped within that act of falling from the bridge but that had been the strongest.  Not necessarily to die, but just to cease being.  This time was different and he acknowledged it to himself.  His reason wasn’t to seek death.  This time he was saving life.

                Thor lay over the edge, his arm still stretched outward as he screamed an anguished cry.  “LOKI!!”

                Immediately Loki’s fall from the Bi-frost slammed into Thor.  That horrible memory of watching Loki let go.  The utter helplessness he’d felt as his little brother slipped through his fingers, the first of many times.  Just like before, he was powerless to prevent it.  Loki grinned, a second before he was engulfed in flames.  As Loki disappeared, the first of Thor’s tears fell.

                Fandral was pale and shaking.  He’d heard about Loki’s initial fall from Asgard, though he suspected the official story was far different than what really happened.  He’d heard about Loki’s actions on Midgard.  Thor had described what Loki had done on Svartalfheim since Loki had always been tight lipped about it.  This was different, to actually see it.  A thousand years of knowing the trickster, but he’d never seen him do anything truly heroic.  Until today.

                Hogun was a quiet man who had never kept his distrust of the younger prince a secret.  But that distrust had slowly faded as he was shown the kind of man that Loki was if allowed to live by his own choices.  He was not one to express himself openly.  Not after Vanaheim.  But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel the emotion.

                Even as Fandral moved the skiff away as fast as it could travel, Thor wasn’t the only one to grieve without shame.

                Surtur’s laughter cut off sharply.  No time to speak.  No time to curse.  Just enough time for flamed eyes to widen before an arc of flame shattered outward and his large body became useless pieces of rock, ash, and ember.

                The initial explosion of fire coated rock and embers had knocked all the AEsir off their feet.  Its sound reverberated all around, the fire demons screaming just before they followed Surtur.  As the explosion slowly quieted a cheer of victory rushed through the AEsir as Surtur’s minions crumbled to ash. 

                Volstagg grinned mightily, raising his fist high into the air again with a victory cry. Sif blinked slowly, not moving at first.  Volstagg was not the most observant of men but today he noticed her lack of reaction.  He came up to Sif’s side, seeing her distraction and misinterpreting it.  “Loki is the greatest mage of Asgard and I am certain Thor will return to us unscathed.”

                She pressed her lips together tightly to keep the tremble undetectable.  So was she.

                Their heads turned as the skiff approached and hovered in front of them before slowly lowering to the ground.  Hunther stood up a little straighter, pride in his gaze.  The shuttle lightly docked.  Fandral was pale as a sheet and Hogun was as grim as ever with his shoulders slightly slumped.  Thor was sitting at the edge with his head hanging low.

                The cries of victory and celebration slowly quieted, looks exchanged. Volstagg’s brow furrowed, looking from the skiff to where Surtur had fallen.  It dawned on the warriors that four men had gone into battle but only three had returned.

                Sif took a step forward, her movement catching attention.  Jaw tight.  Eyes forward.  She refused to show these men her grief.  Later in a quiet moment she would give into her tears but for now she allowed the portrayal of a stoic warrior to wrap around her like a cloak.  She brought a fist to her heart and bowed low in the direction of where Surtur had been defeated.

                Hunther moved in a similar fashion only a second behind her.  What many would do out of a sense of duty he did from respect.  Volstagg’s face was the picture of heavy sadness, but he and Hogun didn’t hesitate in joining in.  Soon others did as well as word spread that Asgard was without a king once more.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_I know.  I'm an evil, evil author.  But then again it's not like there wasn't a warning.  Now, this isn't the end of our tale so chide me for leaving you wanting closure._

_**Next:** _

_Aftermath_ _;  One AEsir changes_


	17. Chapter 17

ALFHEIM

                Anya continued to pace and wring her hands as she anxiously awaited word.  Asgard couldn’t fail.  It just couldn’t.  She’d tried reading but she couldn’t concentrate, worried for the warriors of Asgard on Muspelheim.  Silently she would admit her worry was focused on a specific person.  A few centuries ago she didn’t hold this anxiety.  But Loki had been declared dead and then alive so often now that she was always anxious when he flung himself into danger, worried that the next time it was declared it would be true.  Even a walk of the grounds hadn’t help to clear her head.  She desperately needed a distraction.

                Sigyn knocked lightly on the doorframe before she entered.  She paused just long enough to note Anya’s almost frenzied pace before stating the obvious, “You seem distressed, Anya.”

                “Lady--…”  At Sigyn’s warning look concerning formality Anya corrected herself, “Sigyn.  I am just…worried.”  She sighed this but she couldn’t stand still.  She needed to do something.

                Sigyn silently gestured towards the informal area and the pair of them sat with Anya still wringing her poor hands.  The light elf frowned almost delicately, but was certainly willing to provide the distraction the AEsir needed.  “This cannot be the first time in your lifetime Asgard has gone to war.”

                Anya glanced down at her hands and chuckled lightly. “No, I am not that young.”

                The elf queen tilted her head curiously and asked, “How old are you?”

                “2147.”  The reply was without hesitation.

                Sigyn blinked twice in surprise.  “I didn’t think AEsir remembered their age so precisely.”

                Unconsciously Anya stopped wringing her hands when she smiled ever so slightly.  “Most don’t.  It merely becomes a number to them after their majority.”

                “Yet you do.”  Sigyn carefully prodded, knowing the AEsir retaining this was significant.

                Anya nodded slowly, her voice quieting, “I have reasons to remember my age.”

                “Really?”

                She sighed softly and chose her words carefully before she spoke.  What she was saying was common knowledge so she saw no harm in speaking the truth, “My position is unique.  I have the freedom of choosing to not marry, to not have children, and to continue my chosen vocation.  Most women at my age do not have those choices so I remember my age to retain my gratitude.”

                “Are there truly not that many opportunities in Asgard?”  A wary look crossed Anya’s face and Sigyn was quick to wave away her apprehension.  “Talking to me of such things isn’t a betrayal.”  When the AEsir servant didn’t look anymore comforted the elf queen offered, “Talk of what is common knowledge, not hidden from the other realms.”

                “There are opportunities.  I could be a merchant or a baker.  Perhaps even a seamstress…”  Anya hesitated before listing some of those opportunities and Sigyn picked up on that.

                “I heard a hesitation.”

                Anya chewed on the inside of her bottom lip before explaining, “For the former I would have to have a spouse of a similar vocation or he would have to have enough gold to support an independent business.  As to the latter…”  A self-depreciating smile crossing her lips.  “I never was very skilled at it.”

                “Which again lends itself to a limited amount of choices after a woman is married.”  Sigyn raised an unimpressed eyebrow at such options.  But then she thought about Anya’s position as Loki’s servant and offered another choice, “Surely with the support of someone from the nobility you would be able to pursue such a venture.”

                Fire flashed in Anya’s eyes as she stated stiffly, “I will not **use** someone to achieve something.”

                “I’ve discovered it.”  The expression on Anya’s face shifted to confusion at the relief and mild triumph in Sigyn’s voice.  “I must admit you had me vexingly confused.  You have so much potential but no drive to achieve more.  You don’t want it.”

                Anya felt her brow furrow as her confusion deepened.  “I have told you I am satisfied with my position.”

                “No, you’re truly not.”  Anya opened her mouth to object but Sigyn ignored her.  “You stifle your own ambition.  Why?”

                Slowly Anya closed her mouth without making a sound.  It’s not that Sigyn was wrong because she wasn’t.  But it was a truth she’d never put into words, even though she was considering doing so now.  She’d barely known this woman for any length of time but she was about to speak of something that no one else knew.  She supposed it was because unlike anyone else in Asgard, Sigyn might actually understand.

                “Your perception of the opportunities for a single woman are not inaccurate. Lady Sif has achieved much, and that was with the support of our departed Queen.  Not that I have even a fraction of her skill.  She required support but her achievements were gained honestly.”  Sigyn said nothing, just silently listening.  Anya’s expression turned thoughtful.  “I could become a courtier, but why would I want to?  They play with politics and hop from bedchamber to bedchamber to achieve what they want.  I have no magical skills and no woman is a dignitary between realms.”  But she desperately wished there was.  She would love to become an ambassador for Asgard.  But the council would never want a woman to support their interests in another realm.  Also the warriors would never believe that a woman who wasn’t Sif could remain unmolested or un-abducted.  Wry amusement filled her expression.  “Lord Loki has threatened often enough to ennoble me.”  With a sufficient title she could open that quaint little shop seen only in her dreams, selling her wares.  But as always she was quick to push away that distant dream.  “I will not allow it because I don’t want to become like what I’ve witnessed.”  She hardened her voice and tightened her jaw, even as she remained in tight control over her features so that Sigyn couldn’t take offense.  “With the exception of only a few, every noble and aristocrat I have ever been in the presence of are greedy, self-absorbed and self-important fools.  A servant is nothing more than walking furniture to them and commoners are _opportunities_ to line their own pockets.  They would stand on the backs of people without thinking twice to achieve their own goals.  I will **never** be like them.”

                Amusement filled Sigyn’s expression as she made a statement that clearly didn’t require a response to, “I am assuming that I would be among that exception.”

                Pleasant politeness descended over Anya’s face as she replied quietly, “Of course.  You have been an excellent host and have treated me with the utmost respect.”

                “I have received a missive, Et’ana.”  Both of them stiffened as an elf entered without at least the polite knock.  Anya pushed her irritation away while Sigyn just held out her hand and shot the messenger a cold look.  He was quick to retreat with all haste.

                Sigyn read through the missive, nothing in her expression giving away her own feelings on the content.  Her blue eyes glanced at Anya before the letter was held out to her.  Anya held up a hand in protest but Sigyn just shook her head and stated softly, “It’s nothing we need to hide…and I think the wording can relay the message on gentler terms than I am capable.”

                Anya took the letter with trepidation and started to read.  Moments later her expression crumpled in despair.  While the wording wasn’t elegant, it did offer a hint of sorrow to the news of Asgard’s victory…and great loss.

* * *

HELHEIM

                The dead were still and silent, turning from the glowing reflection of burning embers to the queen of the dead who didn’t move.  She didn’t even twitch.  She hadn’t in quite some time.

                Odin watched and felt a strange swelling in his breast that had never been exclusively directed at Loki before.  Pride.  Even knowing that all of this destruction had been due to Loki’s actions, he saw past it to the act itself.  The act of a choice.  To choose not just the nine realms and the AEsir, but that Thor would live and ascend to the throne.

                A sound disturbed the silence, eyes turning back to watch Hela slowly stand and clap.  As if the actions had all been staged by actors for her own personal enjoyment.  There was amusement on her face and in her eyes.  But there was something more.  Knowledge.  She turned to the south and whistled sharply, a sound that carried like a shrill scream.

                Nothing occurred for several long moments before two flamed beasts walked through the walls, up to either side of Hela.  Odin stiffened, recognizing them for what they were.  The legendary flamed hellhounds of Niflheim.  Just as the Valkyries escorted the honored dead to Valhalla, it was said the hellhounds escorted the worst of the damned to Niflheim.

                “His act is worthy of Valhalla, not Niflheim.”

                Hela didn’t look at Odin, her fingers lovingly caressing each of her hound’s heads.  She didn’t owe Odin any explanations, but she was curious as to his reaction when he learned the truth.  “Loki gave his soul into my keeping in exchange for protecting the denizens of Asgard.”

                Odin froze, eye wide in shock.  Loki had always been the child he understood the least.  The boy embraced magic with a fervor he never had.  His passions seemed to be in schemes and lies, which only further confounded him.  Yet that he would offer his soul to Hela in exchange for the protection of the citizens of Asgard spoke of a nobility that most AEsir would fail if put to the test.

                He sounded hoarsely surprised as he asked, “An agreement you honored?”

                She gave him a toothy grin. “Most did not need my protection.  But I used seidr to spare your realm’s buildings and the few that remained.”

                His eye hardened. “You cannot have him.”

                Hela slowly lifted one eyebrow at that firm statement.  It was spoken softly but there was steel behind it.  Her lips twitched as she looked at him fully and asked, “What was that?”  The dead’s gazes pin-ponged from one to the other.

                Odin stood up taller, a rumble in his voice. He spoke louder now but didn’t alter his words.  “You cannot have him.”

                “I agree.” Farbauti stepped forward as the gathered dead quickly backed away so as not to get in the line of fire.  Then the Jötunn glared at Odin to emphasize her stance.  “Not with **you**.”  She turned back to Hela.  “But Loki should be in Valhalla with the woman he acknowledges as his mother.”

                “This is not a democracy, children.” Farbauti’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly and Hela was surprised to see a bit of temper there.  Not too surprised.  Farbauti, even in death, retained a love for all of her children.  But it was the first display of temper directed at herself since the woman had died.  Hela’s gaze moved to Odin to see a stubborn set to his jaw.  Not that either of them had any true power here but she was curious as to his reason.  Asking him softly, her tone giving none of her own thoughts away, “Why not?”

                “You are not worthy of him.”

                Hela snorted rather loudly, asking him, “And you were?” She studied him, surprised at the rebellion in his gaze.  Until now Odin had been a shadow of his former self.  Now the king the AEsir remembered long ago stood before her. She understood why and it irritated her.  She shook her head slowly to herself.  “Still such a fool.” 

                His brow furrowed. “I will have your reason for your words.”

                Surprise flickered across her face, but there was also mockery there. “They aren’t just my words.  Your Advisory Council has been calling you such behind your back for years.”  His upper lip curled back from his teeth in a silent snarl.  Hela ignored him.  “The Norns have given you that label and who am I to disagree with them?  Both of your sons have called you this…and if Thor is calling you a fool then it must be true.”  Farbauti couldn’t hold back the snicker even if she tried.  Not that she was trying very hard.  Hela redirected the conversation and explained why she agreed with that label.  “You do not see Loki’s worth now that he has accomplished what the great King Odin could not.  What three fourths of the nine realms banded together could not.  He did not just incapacitate Surtur.  The fire demon will never reconstitute himself.  Loki destroyed him.”

                “With your aid.”

                Hela shrugged at Odin dismissively. “I offered knowledge.  If he didn’t have the capability, it wouldn’t have worked.  To put this into context that even you can understand…I lay the magical equivalent of a sword at his feet.  He had to have the skill, strength, and accuracy to wield it successfully.”  Now disgust curled her lip.  “But do you, Odin Borson, acknowledge such a feat?  No.  You only see what you wish to see.  Your pride is focused elsewhere.  He has paved the way for what you envisioned all along.  That your trueborn son would sit on the throne and continue the stagnation that has hovered over the AEsir for more than 7,000 years.  That, is what you are proud of and that is why you are a fool.”

                Odin blinked once but he didn’t bother with denials that no one would believe.  At this point he wasn’t entirely certain that she was wrong since she seemed to be right about everything else.  Instead he focused on why he believed Thor to be the king that Asgard needed.  “Thor is my heir.”

                “He was.”  A sly grin spread across her face that eerily reminded him of Loki.  “The Thor of a few years ago was your heir, like you in all the ways that you wish you weren’t.  You changed his course by letting him learn from humanity the value of compassion.”

                Odin’s voice was gruff as he ignored the comparisons between himself and his son.  “He became worthy of the throne.”

                Hela corrected him effortlessly.  “He became a man open to change.  A man who can think for himself to determine what matters most to him in this life.”  Her eyes flicked over to Farbauti.  “A man who can look past blue skin and red eyes to see the brother he wishes to reconcile with once more.”

                He shook his head, his mind remaining focused on the wrongness of Loki being here after such a sacrifice.  “Loki--…”

                “Why did you fear him?”  She cut him off with her quiet question.

                He didn’t see the point of it but he puffed up in denial.  “I was not--…”

                She cut him off with another sly grin.  “I can hear lies, a gift I gave to him.”

                “You?” Odin asked, his voice startled.  He couldn’t place the time, but he had noticed it was around the time that Loki became fascinated with his spell work.  It was about the same time that he stopped being easily fooled with lies, almost as if he could detect them.

                “As talented a liar as you were in life, you are transparent to me in death.” Hela’s lip twitched a second later, belatedly realizing the physical truth of that statement.  Then her expression turned back to sly, her eyes burning with knowledge.  “You feared his intelligence.  His magic.  Would it aid your fear to know that he and I are on equal terms in power?”

                Odin blinked rapidly several times. He had seen Loki’s abilities.  Tricks and illusions, mostly.  This was the first time Loki had ever used his magic in a monumental capacity and it ended up destroying him. “His magic was never--…”

                She ignored him. “His limitation is his mortal form and his youth.  Were he not born mortal, he would rival the Norns.”  She stepped away from her throne, crossing the distance and her hounds following on either side of her.  The dead had no choice except to part for her.  Loki was further disadvantaged by the realm he grew up in.  A realm and a father that didn’t provide the proper tools that he needed to use his magic to its full potential.  She could help with that and provide him a few tomes.  To make things interesting she might do it.  “His disadvantage of his age, however…once he’s gained enough knowledge, lives long enough…he will be a force.”  Farbauti jerked slightly though she didn’t move, staring at Hela in shock.

               Odin didn’t take notice of the tense, only that she now had everything she wanted. “You have, yet again, arranged an end to your benefit.”

               It truly would be an end to her benefit if her goal was to destroy the realms. To have not just the AEsir who had never known defeat in command of her armies but the trickster prince of Asgard, the greatest mage to ever walk the nine.  But then again, Odin never had understood her and he never would.  When she acted, power wasn’t her only motivation.

               Hela stopped and gave Odin a condescending look. “You think I would be happy if the boy died?”  He looked startled once more and she just gave him a pitying shake of her head.  “I told you, the living are far more entertaining to watch.  Besides, I was certain he wouldn’t change his mind.  He surprised me…that should be rewarded.”

               “But, he’s dead.”

               Her lips quirked. “You were a simple man in life and even more so in death.  The boundary between life and death is not nearly as rigid as you believe…and for the mage powerful enough, there is no boundary.”

* * *

ASGARD

                Sif felt as solemn as she looked, adjusting her armor in the mirror. She felt a bitterness rise up from within.  She had never seen the Advisory Council scramble so quickly.  It had been less than 48 hours since Surtur’s defeat.  They wanted Thor crowned before the end of the day because so many in Asgard were still displaced and a stable government was needed.  Even the most hardened of the warriors had seen it as an act of poor taste.  The crowning of a king should be a joyous occasion but she saw little to rejoice.  Thor had agreed only because tonight they would be sending out the ships in the funeral rites to honor the fallen and he wanted to be the one to send Loki’s first.  Then tomorrow his first act as king would be to dismiss the entire council.

                Slowly she frowned at her reflection in the mirror before reaching back and releasing her tightly bound hair.  It fell like a curtain of ebony around her face and for once she didn’t flinch from it.  Her hair wasn’t as unmanageable as Loki’s but the color did remind her of him.  Picking up her brush, she moved the bristles through the strands a few times before loosely pulling back half of it.  Still out of her face, the unbound portion now fell loosely down her back.

                In remembrance.

                His words kept repeating in her mind, a thousand times by now since the battle.  She found herself wishing he had lived, not just for Thor’s sake but for her own.  With the truth revealed concerning her hair **and** his past feelings…it would have been nice to see what could have happened between them.  The pair of them had respect for one another.  With time it could have grown into something more.

                There was no red in her armor.  What wasn’t silver was black.  She wrapped a wide black band around her right gauntlet.  Formal armor was fitting for today, but this was not a day of celebration and Thor didn’t want it to be.  Which was good because she didn’t think she’d be able to muster it.

                Fandral knocked on the doorframe a second time, realizing she hadn’t heard him the first time.  She glanced at him in the reflection of the mirror and the look that flashed across her face he felt mirrored by his own emotions.

                “I wish it was all just a dream.”  She moved away from the mirror as she said this, facing the balcony.  She stilled her trembling lip by biting into it.  She would not break down in front of him.

                “It feels like it was one.  It--…I never expected matters to end like this.”  Fandral slowly shook his head after he spoke.  They were warriors, all.  Since the beginning they had all been trained to fight hard and to die with honor.  Still, it was quite different to see one of their own perish in battle.

                She could remember just a few years ago feeling invincible.  The six of them against any foe.  She had felt confident they would always hold victory.  “I keep waiting, expecting him to appear and laugh at our grief.”  She refused to look at him, finding it easier to speak at the wall.  “I wouldn’t even be angry with him at this point.”

                “You wouldn’t?”  Fandral asked quietly, only mildly doubting.

                Sif sniffed but didn’t turn around, holding her head just a little higher. “I would punch him of course but it would be the least he deserved.”

                Fandral grinned slightly but the amusement quickly slipped away.  His mind was still turning over what he had learned.  “The bards are already busy writing songs and sonnets to Loki’s legend.”  Sif didn’t even twitch in his direction and he stared at her back a little harder, willing her to turn around.  “He signed the edict.”

                She frowned just a little, giving him a quick glance over her shoulder as she asked, “What edict?”

                “Your edict.”  She lifted her eyebrow slightly but her face remained blank so Fandral explained further. “Anyone of the proper age, boy or girl, may request training…without the requirement of head of household approval so long as they are judged fit enough.”

                Sif mulled over what an edict like that could mean, a scowl automatically flashing across her face as she asked, “And who decides that?  Tyr?”

                Her anger with the general knew no bounds, both for obvious and less obvious reasons.  What respect she'd carried for him had been crushed under the knowledge of what he had done.  The fact that he let Loki shoulder the blame left her cursing him a coward as well as a bully.  Yet even in her anger, she could see that he did regret.  He, like the rest of Asgard, was subdued with the loss of their king.

                “You do, actually.”  Her mouth dropped in shock before she jerked back around and blinked rapidly to will away the burn in her eyes.  So many emotions welled up in her heart it was overwhelming.  Fandral seemed to sense this, glancing away to shake his head.  “I still cannot believe he did with seidr what no one managed with might.”

                There was a lengthy pause, a silence that filled the air that was both comfortable and tense.  Fandral glanced out a window, seeing the banners hanging from every available surface.  Not the colors of the soon to be king, but Loki’s colors of muted green, gold, and black in remembrance.  “He did.”  Her words were quiet, but filled with passion.

                “Sif?”

                Sif jerked around and there was fire in her eyes.  “He defeated Surtur with might and I will have words with any man who dares to say otherwise.  He accomplished with magic what the bulk of the nine realms could not.  He used deception to spare those foolish enough to listen to Tyr instead of him.  And he used might to do what Mjolnir and Gungnir could not.”  She was nodding to herself, finally walking on solid ground for the first time in what felt like centuries.  “That will be my new task.  To inspire Asgard to see the worth of our magical caste.  We could invite Vanir and Elf spell casters here, to teach defensive and offensive spells.  I will use Loki as the example to the enchanters of the realm to emulate.”

                Fandral’s lip twitched even if there was still sadness wrapped around it. “I am not certain Asgard could survive the pranks if they were to truly follow his example.”

                Her own lip twitched. “It will be a small price to pay.  How many never came forward to learn to fight just because their strength was different than what Asgard embraced?  They did so just to avoid the ridicule that Loki faced for most of his life.  We will show them true courage.”

                She was inspiring.  The Sif that he remembered from long ago.  It would be what Loki would want and he nodded before confiding softly.  “I took note of the way he fought.”  A style of fighting that he had sometimes wished he’d had the courage to use instead of the berserker tactics of brute strength that weren’t the best fit for him.

                Sif nodded firmly. “Then you will show me and we will pass on his legacy.”

                Fandral nodded in agreement. “Aye.”

* * *

                Thor stared at himself in the mirror.  He looked at the face of a man that would soon hold the lives of all Asgardians in his hands.  A man who would soon be the king of Asgard.  He desperately needed Loki to peer over his shoulder and softly say something to boost his waning confidence.  He flinched and bowed his head as his heart squeezed painfully.

                He would never again feel that mischievous presence at his side.  He didn’t want this and he wished with every fiber of his being that this wasn’t reality.  That he wouldn’t have to continue for another 5000 years alone.  He would choose a queen when he was forced to and have a family again but he had lost all of them and he wasn’t certain he would ever get over that heartbreak.

                A knock at his doors roused him and he spoke without turning, “Enter.”

                Hogun walked in through one of the doors silently a moment later, closing it behind him.  Thor strained to give a small smile that was little more than a grimace as he asked, “Is it time?”

                “Almost.”  Thor nodded absently at Hogun’s response, not moving away from the mirror but no longer looking at his reflection.  At least not until Hogun’s question penetrated the fog of regret.  “What weapon from the Vault did Loki use?”

                Thor turned away from the mirror, showing Hogun his back as he crossed to Mjolnir.  Loki had told him repeatedly that he had no skill in lying.  Unfortunately his brother hadn’t been wrong.  “He never consulted me on the matter.  It is of no import.  Asgard has won and lost, let us not dwell.”

                Hogun ignored the blatant lie that now lay between then, choosing to attack this topic directly.  “Only the Casket of Ancient Winter--…”

                “Do not utter another word.”  Thor whipped around to snap this.  Mjolnir was in his hand and he pointed the weapon threateningly, temper in his eyes.  “You will never speak of it.  I will hear no disparaging words against my brother.  None.  Ever.”

                It wasn’t the first time the warriors had seen Thor issue a threat.  It wasn’t unheard for him to do so once daily.  It was rare for that threat to be issued at one of them.  Hogun was careful in his response but unafraid, speaking perhaps more than he had in the last century.  He had heard the term Frost Giant used often enough in Asgard but he ensured that that word was not used now.  “General Tyr has informed me that the Jötunn have a similar ceremony during specific times when an honored warrior falls.  He has also informed me, and only me, that if we were to delay the funeral rites by half an hour we would be able to honor the customs of Lord Loki’s heritage by birth as well as the customs of the people he chose.”

                Thor’s eyes widened incredulously.  He wasn’t certain what surprised him more.  That Hogun had spoken so much or that Tyr would act so honorably considering the animosity he had witnessed between the general and his brother.  But he didn’t focus on any of this, asking the usually silent warrior softly, “How long have you known?”

                Hogun again considered his words carefully before he responded, “It is the second time he has used that relic.  A weapon to my knowledge that can only be wielded by the Jotnar.”

                “You had no suspicion the first time?”

                Hogun didn’t reply but then he didn’t have to. It wasn’t long before Loki was assumed dead after his fall.  There wouldn’t have been a point for the quiet warrior to contemplate the origins of a dead man.

                Thor’s jaw tightened, unsure why he even asked what he said next.  “Is that why you never trusted him?”

                Hogun’s brow furrowed as he thought carefully.  Distrust between himself and Loki had been because the trickster’s actions often contradicted his words but it never had anything to do with race.  It was also a distrust that had faded in recent months.  It hadn’t disappeared completely.  There would always be a wariness between them.  But then only for a man or a king that he was loyal to would he obey without question, like he had to help ensure Surtur’s defeat. 

                But Hogun didn’t speak of that, instead he focused on what he believed. “It does not matter where a man or woman is born or their lineage.  It is the choices that are made that matter.”  He was silent because he usually found speaking unnecessary but today these words and this truth were important.  “I was born Vanir but I chose to be Asgardian.  Your mother did so as well.”  As did many other citizens of Asgard.  While the dominant species was AEsir, there was a wide variety of other races represented.  He was also old enough and trusted enough to know of one other truth few remembered.  “Half of your father’s lineage came from Jötunheim, but he chose to follow his AEsir blood.”  He shrugged as if where Loki came from meant nothing.  “Loki is Jötunn by birth, but he chose to be Asgardian.  That is what matters.”

                Thor jerked to stare at Hogun as the words slowly penetrated and understanding followed.  Not just Hogun’s stance concerning the importance that some make of a circumstance of birth.  The understanding that if Odin was half Jötunn, then that meant that there was a quarter of their blood in his own veins.  Yet the horror and outrage that he would have felt a few years ago from learning that he had Jötunn blood in his veins was absent.  If anything such news was a comfort.  He had something in common with his brother.  “Do the others know?”

                They both knew Thor was specifically asking if the others of their group knew about Loki’s true origins.  “If any do it would be Sif, but she has not spoken of it.”

                A knock ended any further conversation and after a pause Sif entered with Fandral trailing.  Her grim expression matched her attire and Thor found it fitting.  He desperately wanted to delay the coronation, at least until after Asgard as well as himself had been allowed the opportunity to grieve properly but there was no one left to act as Steward.

                The five slowly exchanged glances amongst one another before they turned as a unit to depart.  There were still words to be expressed between each other but they would face the challenge of today with a united purpose and settle those issues another day.

* * *

 

** _Author's Notes:_ **

_I tried not to make you wait to long for the next portion.  :D_

**_Next:_ **

_Gathering a few missing pieces_


	18. Chapter 18

MUSPELHEIM

                 Hela took her time walking amongst the dying embers. The planet was quite large and the debris was widespread.  It was also noticeably quiet now.  Without the fire demon to stir things up the lava now flowed gently like water down a stream.  The ground beneath her feet was relatively still and a crust was starting to form in areas.  In her estimation it was quite possible if this cycle of life continued long enough the entire face of this realm might reshape itself. 

                 Because this planet was so large she had chosen to bring her hounds with her. They could find with ease what would be more difficult for her to find on her own.  And the climate was agreeable to them, while she was beyond feeling discomfort by such things.  She almost likened this to a mortal strolling with their pets through the park on a temperate day. 

                 She walked slowly but with quiet purpose, her mind flitting back to Odin’s words. She actually found both his and Farbauti’s brief defiance amusing, as she did his impression of her capabilities.  She was not omniscient and she was not all-powerful.  She had a particular skill set and she had age on her side.  But the simple truth was that Odin had always underestimated Loki so he had no way of knowing the trickster’s true power.  Not even she could force Loki to do anything.

                 It was within her ability to pull him towards Helheim, as she had after Svartalfheim, but the passageway that opened to Valhalla hadn’t been her doing for she had no control over that realm. It was Loki’s choice.  It always had been.  He could choose a realm for his eternity, just as he could have chosen to return to his form.  She could no more force Loki to enter her kingdom any more than the Valkyries could force him to Valhalla.  She could trick him, of course, but if he truly wished to escape he would. 

                The hounds were ahead of her, scouting through Surtur’s remains. She paused, looking down at what could have been dismissed as two lumps of burning coal.  But she knew better.  She smirked and purred smugly, “I told you there are worse fates than imprisonment.”

                Surtur was little more than a conscious mind hovering over Muspelheim, able to see and hear but no longer able to interact.  The flames within the coal flickered but Surtur had no way to respond to her mockery.

                One of her hounds growled and she slinked to its side.  There was a mountain of ash, rock, and burnt stone in the way but it was no obstacle for her.  She held up both hands, green and black tendrils of magic swirling around her before reaching out to part what was before her.

                There was a howl, followed by a puzzled whine and she slinked forward now that the debris had been cleared.  She could see why her precious pets were confused.  At the epicenter was not the crumpled burnt body of a man but a glowing compact sphere of what could have been dismissed as green glass, like a crystal ball.  Loki’s body had not just burned, it had disintegrated under such heat.  But that wasn’t what caused a slight smile.  She knew what this sphere was.  Magic.  Enough magic to end everything and restart the cycle of Ragnarok.  Certainly enough magic to protectively cocoon a soul.

                Thanos would see this as a means to achieving his goals.

                Odin would fear this and lock it away in his vault…or his dungeon.

                Very few were in fact worthy of such a precious gift from Yggdrasil.  For that is what a mage was.  A being with enough power and intelligence to move mountains.  They were a gift that could bring their people great prosperity…or great despair.  It all depended on how that gift was treated.  Leaning down gracefully, she held out her hand and after a moment the globe leapt into her grasp of its own accord.  Standing, she turned to look thoughtfully in the direction of Asgard.  In fact of the choices of candidates who held enough honor and love to be a worthy caretaker, the two most worthy both resided on Asgard.

* * *

ALFHEIM

                Anya did her best to contain her emotions as she stared out the window.  Her elven escort would arrive in a few hours so she could journey to the Bi-Frost site.  Today a king would be crowned…and tonight a king would be mourned.  The timing of her journey would allow her to miss the coronation but that had been a conscious choice.  She had no interest in celebrating today.

                As a commoner her journey to another realm was almost unheard of, until now.  Word had reached her of Loki giving the order to empty Asgard of all citizens moments before the mountains erupted of fire and death, so her experience was no longer unique.  She was also pleased to hear that they had all been spared.  She knew many were thanking the Norns of their good fortune.  She knew they should be thanking their king.

                A figure entered without a knock to the doorframe and she turned to observe an oddly colored light elf sweep into the room.  Light elves came in a variety of shapes and skin tones, but none had hair of ebony.  Anya paid little attention, her focus on the knowing green eyes the elf carried.

                “You know who I am.”

                It wasn’t a question and Anya didn’t treat it like one.  “Yes.”  There was a pause of silence between them before she asked almost mechanically, “You knew, didn’t you?”                 The elf, who was in fact Hela wearing her elven disguise, lifted a single eyebrow and asked, “What did I know?”

                Anya couldn’t even muster the emotion to feel anger.  Hurt.  Nothing seemed to penetrate the blanket of sorrow that weighed down her limbs.  “That was why you made the bargain with me.  You knew that…that he would lose…”

                Hela ignored the question in Anya’s voice and instead asked one of her own, “Are you familiar with the principle of Ragnarok?”  Nor did she wait for a reply before continuing with an explanation of how life truly worked.  “Life is not merely a process from beginning to end but a loop.  When the end comes, space and time resets again.  All the players from the previous cycle return to their start positions with no memory of what has happened.  But I remember.”  Hela green eyes flinted with a dull fury.  It was a pointless emotion, yet she felt it every time the cycle of life ended and began again.  But beyond the fury of her cursed awareness was the dullness of one who had given up.  “After five thousand years of living you have AEsir that crave death.  Imagine living a million times that amount.  Then multiply that by a thousand-thousand cycles.”  Hela suddenly sounded as tired as she looked.  “You all now resemble gray pieces moving about on a chess game with no ending.  A game where victory and defeat don’t matter.  It’s all pointless.”

                Tall.  Short.  Fat.  Thin.  Young.  Old.  Jötunn.  AEsir…what did any of it matter?  Life was pointless, in her opinion.  There was no meaning.  And with no meaning there was no victory.

                Anya frowned delicately, distracted out of her grief. “Then why are you here?  Why would you leave Helheim if it doesn’t matter?”

                Hela had had many phases through the cycles. She’d searched for a way to prevent the cycle in the beginning.  Then she’d embraced it for countless more and would seek to bring it about sooner rather than later.  It may have no meaning to her now but after she’d spent 51 cycles sulking about it, she’d decided 127 cycles ago to change her tactics.  “Ending you all quickly or allowing matters to spiral on their own makes no difference.  So when I find those that are entertaining I see them as a break in the monotony.  Loki has always been one of my favorites.”

                “He’s--…” With a shudder Anya glanced away and wrapped her arms around her body in a self-hug.

                Hela chose a seat by a window without asking permission, resting the green globe in her lap. “I have witnessed countless cycles and yet he never acts the same way twice.  It is almost as if he remembers what he has done before and refuses to repeat himself.  I find that thrilling.”  Her green eyes flicked over to the simple bag that was packed and waiting by the entryway.  “Why do you return to Asgard today?  To see the crowning of a king?”

                Anya could hear the tease in Hela’s tone but she ignored it.  She tightened her arms around herself, her voice hoarse as she spoke, “Lord Loki’s funeral rites are tonight.”

                The queen inclined her head but made no move to leave.  “Well, do not allow me to delay you.”

                “Why did you seek me out?  Again?  I-I cannot fulfill a vow that--…”  Anya closed her eyes and pulled in a slow breath, willing away the burn that stung her eyes.  She was becoming convinced Hela’s only purpose was to torment her.

                Hela’s voice quieted when she asked, “Why do you believe I have?”

                Swallowing the lump in her throat, answering after a momentary pause, “You approached me.”

                The Queen stayed silent for a moment before seemingly changing the subject.  “Answer me this question…are you loyal to Loki above any other?”

                Anya glanced up, not for the first time wondering why everyone found her loyalty so surprising.  “Yes.”

                Hela nodded slowly to herself.  “I should indeed have observed you over the years.  Such a curious AEsir.”

                “What is that?”  Anya wasn’t even aware of what Hela was said, focused and mesmerized by what the Helheim queen held.

                “Magic.”  Hela’s lips twitched in amusement as the fingers of her right hand lovingly caressed the smooth globe.  “It is the physical proof of the power of a mage.”

                “Is--…”  She knew that color.  He made fantasy creatures that held that color.  His eyes would flash that color on rare occasions.  “Is that **his** magic?”

                Hela tilted her head ever so slightly as she asked curiously, “Why do you think it is?”  It wasn’t the sort of question someone unfamiliar with seidr would ask.  Witches understood magic…the rest were either awed by it or feared it but they never took the time to understand it.

                Anya felt her breath quicken as she loosely gestured with her left arm towards the sphere.  “His magic was usually that color.  He once spoke that the color is a reflection of the caster.”

                Curious how the AEsir would respond, Hela nodded.  “Yes, this is his magic--…”

                It was remarkable the change that came over Anya’s face. It contorted as a vicious edge entered her voice.  “Why do you have his magic??”

                Hela blinked in surprise, slightly taken aback by the reaction. A second later she felt the flush of amusement and chuckled.  “Such a fierce little thing when the occasion requires it.”  She shouldn’t be too surprised.  The AEsir were a naturally aggressive race and even the most congenial of their numbers would react when perceiving a threat to one of their own.  “I’m doing a little shopping before I pay a visit to your new king.”  Her expression turned coy.  “Would you like to assist me?”  Anya blinked as shock knocked the fierceness out of her.  “I need a drop of your blood.”

                “Why?”

                After a considering moment Hela stood back up and approached the woman. Her words could be seen as comforting if that was Hela’s intention.  They also could be seen as factual proof of her innate selfishness.  “With a mage of Loki’s caliber, they only pass on to the next life if they choose to do so.  Magic will cling to him, mending what is broken if he were to choose to return to his form.  Unfortunately his body was burnt beyond ash.  It would take a great deal of time and I refuse to wait a thousand years for that to happen.”

                For as fantastical a concept as what Hela had just alluded to, Anya took such news in stride. “And my blood will assist his return?”

                Hela didn’t say anything to confirm or to deny, she just calmly stared back at Anya. It’s not that it would assist in his return.  It would be useful for another purpose, but she didn’t feel like explaining herself to the Asgardian.  A moment later Anya held out her hand, palm up.  With a tilt of Hela’s head and a quick flick of her wrist the drop of blood was stored in a vial and hidden.

                Anya watched Hela as she turned with the orb held in her hands. She wanted to reach out and snatch the sphere away from Lady Death but she restrained herself by clenching both fists stiffly at her sides.  But her mind continued to ponder what Hela had said and she found herself too curious not to ask, “Is that the only reason?  Because you enjoy watching him?”

                The Queen of the Underworld continued to walk for a moment before she paused. She’d allowed the images in her throne room to continue, following her journey so that the dead could continue to watch as the story slowly reached its conclusion.  She hoped Odin was watching right now.  “Your books are like your lives, Asgardian.  Heroes and villains.  It’s all that any of you aspire to be.  Good will triumph and evil will be punished.  It’s so delightful when that’s not how life ends.”  It was a break in the monotony when it happened.  It was thrilling, even if it sometimes deprived her of one of her favorites.  But then a life with no trials was a boring life and not worth watching.  “Yet there’s little room for anyone who isn’t one or the other.  You gray little pieces all demand that a choice be made, particularly of a powerful man or woman.  Hero.  Villain.  Pick one and embrace it.”  Which is what Loki had tried to do.  He’d spent over a thousand years following Asgard’s path of a hero and the last couple of years trying to embrace the path of a villain, which he felt was his by fate and genetics.  “The role of hero fit him ill so he tried the role of villain.  But that too is not a well fitted coat.”  A hero wouldn’t have unleashed the Chitauri, even for the right reason.  A villain wouldn’t have saved Thor on Svartalfheim, a debt owed or not.  “I want to see if perhaps he will choose to ignore all of you puzzle pieces and step beyond you.”  Perhaps he would become someone like herself who could move through the nine to set the wheels in motion.  Someone who could with cunning and ingenuity orchestrate a truly united front against Thanos.  To inspire and persuade not with a goal of saving their realms or their people, but to prevent the collapse of the nine.  To prevent Ragnarok, no matter the cost of an individual species.  A hero couldn’t accomplish it.  A villain wouldn’t even try.  It could only be done by a trickster. 

                Hela turned sharply and commanded Anya, “Go home now.” Then a dangerous, amused smirk curled her lips.  “This is one coronation you are not going to want to miss.”

* * *

JOTUNHEIM

                The realm was cold and hard, much like the inhabitants.  But once, before the AEsir had taken away everything from them, it had been beautiful.  That is not to say that it wasn’t acknowledged that Laufey’s actions had inspired the Asgardians but it was much easier to blame another species for the ruin of your own world than your own king.

                She arrived soundlessly, as she did with any world that she visited.  Her way of travel was both coveted and envied, but it was an ability that few possessed.  Yggdrasil was the great tree of life and the nine realms were her fruit.  Hela’s ability was to twist to the left and slip between the folds of space, walking along the hidden golden branches of Yggdrasil that connected each of the nine.  A path that most could not walk, both because of the lack of seidr running through their veins as well as an inability to preserve their sanity among such vastness. 

                The area she walked through now looked no more remarkable than any other, but this was a truly special place only a select few in the universe knew of.  To most, it would seem to be nothing more than a hollowed mountain of Jötunheim wrapped in ice, perhaps a volcano a few eons ago that had erupted.  But Hela knew it was something much more as she knelt to carefully scoop up a small handful of what appeared to be sparkling dust.

                It wasn’t necessary for her to breathe but she allowed a plume of smoke to escape as she exhaled, just to enjoy the vast temperature difference.

                “This is a sacred place.”

                Hela grinned just a little at the soft rebuke, the dust in her hand vanishing into storage as she stood back up and turned.  She didn’t bring her hounds with her here, the climate far too cold for their comfort.  A Jötunn watched her silently and she might have been surprised at his presence if she didn’t sense the seidr running through his veins.  This one was not as powerful as Loki, but still noteworthy for his race.  She took note of his kin markings, the markings that were passed down genetically.  Some races passed down freckles.  Some a specific eye color.  For the Jötunn, it was a specific arrangement of raised markings.  “You are the king’s son.”

                He stood up just a little straighter, all ten feet of him, but there was respect in his expression.  Not that Hela was surprised.  The Jotnar had always held the proper respect for her and her role in the universe.  “Laufey-king is dead.  I am king of Jötunheim.”  She knew of him, if only because he was the blood kin of Loki.  He wasn’t destined to be one of hers.  This one, Helblindi, wasn’t as interesting to her but she knew his reputation.  Much like his older brother, he was both intelligent and a tactician by nature.

                She shrugged a single shoulder in dismissal.  “That does not change the fact that you are the king’s son.”

                He looked around the hollowed mountain with a small frown, stubbornly sticking to his point.  “It is believed Ymir’s ashes were spread here to honor him.  You do not belong here.”

                Ymir, the first of the frost giants.  Legend said that just as Surtur sustained the fire demons of Muspelheim, Ymir sustained the life of the frost giants until they gained a life of their own.  And she knew that legends had at least a grain of truth to them.  That particular legend had much more truth than anyone knew.

                Her reply was a statement of fact, “I am queen of the dead.  I would argue I am one of the few that belongs here.”

                The young king eyed the softly glowing globe in her hand.  “Laufey-king knew nothing of the universe but Farbauti-queen was quite wise.”  He took a single step closer, frowning thoughtfully.  He knew magic manifested itself for several reasons but the most common was to cocoon something.  “This is a physical manifestation of magic.  What does it contain?”

                Her lip twitched in amusement but she answered truthfully.  “A soul.”

                His frown deepened before he asked, “Why bring it here?”

                “To accomplish what all the king’s horses and all the king’s men could not.”  He just stared back blankly.  Not that she was surprised.  A Jötunn would have no concept of a mortal nursery rhyme.  A rather morbid nursery rhyme in her opinion.  “To put him back together again.”

                Helblindi’s mind worked quickly, piecing things together.  He knew the songs of Ymir well.  He knew her intention without even needing clarification.  “And you would attempt to reconstitute a body with the ashes of Ymir?”  Which made no sense to him.  Ymir was the father of the frost giants.  Those ashes would only be useful to assist one of their own. 

                “Indeed.”

                Narrowing his red eyes as he asked, “Who was it?”

                She tilted her head as she studied him. A relationship between Jötunheim and Asgard wasn’t necessary to either realm yet.  Yet, being the important word.  When Thanos finally came, Jötunheim would be a useful ally and both realms had something in common.  They both believed in the importance of blood.  “Asgard’s second son, Loki.”

                Helblindi focused inward. The ashes would be able to assist a Jotnar mage in regaining a form.  Only one Jötunn was unaccounted for after the war between Jötunheim and Asgard, and none since.  Then he took a step back, horror in his eyes.  Something like understanding flashed across his face as he gnashed his sharp teeth together.  Hela realized that Helblindi shared another trait with Loki.  The ability to make strange leaps of logic.

                After the destruction from the Bi-frost a missive had been sent by Odin’s strange crows that both Laufey’s death and the destruction to Jötunheim had been the unsanctioned actions of his second son. Not that many truly mourned Laufey’s passing and the destruction had struck an unoccupied section of Jötunheim.  It had made Helblindi wonder why those actions had occurred, even if he had no choice in accepting Odin at his word.  Now so much of what happened made sense to him. 

                He glanced away and snarled softly. “Did they teach him to hate his own or was there another reason?”

                She studied him silently, debating the merits of indulging in his curiosity or merely leaving.  In the end she decided of anyone in this world, this boy deserved the truth.  “He was taught to hate…and that he’d been abandoned to die, which fueled the fire.”

                “He was first born--…”  Helblindi cut off his instinctual denial with a soft snarl, knowing it made sense.  A Jötunn raised loyal to the throne of Asgard was much more logical than a Jötunn brought up knowing he was kidnapped.  And with Laufey-king, he wasn’t entirely certain his brother hadn’t been abandoned to the elements.  “Of course they did.”  He didn’t bother asking why she was interfering.  He doubted she would give the real reason if he dared.  Instead, Helblindi studied the glowing sphere for another moment.  The magic was keeping the person within tied to this plane of existence.  Loki was sleeping.  The ashes would react with the sphere, providing the elements needed to give him a shape but that would be all they would do.  They couldn’t force Loki to remain if he didn’t wish it and it wouldn’t provide him with the kin markings of his birth.  “The ashes will give him a body but he will be without markings or heritage.” 

                Then he held out his palm. It was the law of the universe.  Like sang to like.  Blood to blood.

                Hela smiled ever so slightly as she realized what he was offering. With the ashes and the offering of blood, Loki would have the opportunity to be completely whole.  “What do you want in return, young king?”

                “That he knows not all of us are monsters.”

                What she was doing seemed like a lot of work with little reward for herself. But she hadn’t been lying.  Loki among the living was much more entertaining that a lifetime without him.  She also knew that Thanos would be coming.  The trickster’s presence could stave off Ragnarok and she wasn’t quite ready for the next cycle to begin.  She opened her own palm and another small vial appeared.

* * *

ASGARD                              

                Heimdall furrowed his brow, looking to the left as a figure swirled into existence on the edge of the Bi-frost.  She was wrapped in a dark traveling cloak, one hand occupied by a glowing green sphere.  The Goddess of the Underworld slowly turned her head, giving him an assessing glance before smirking at him and stating softly.  “You are known to me.” 

               Those that were entertaining were known to her. This man, however, was not entertaining.  He was dull and predictable in her opinion.  The rest who were known to her could potentially be welcomed to Helheim.  That specific phrase held a lot of significance.  A phrase that was known and feared by any AEsir warrior.  Heimdall’s golden eyes widened slightly and he took a half step back. 

               Her green eyes were too knowing, too seeing. “Such a foolish AEsir.  You see yet you are blind.  With love you are blind to fault.”

               “Love?” There was no expression on Heimdall’s face.  There almost never was.  But Hela had learned long ago to look beneath the skin.

               “For your beloved thunderer.” She purred the words at him. 

               The AEsir were not so rigid that sex could only occur between a man and a woman. It wasn’t talked about, but it also wasn’t really important.  Unfortunately the AEsir had different views when it came to marriage.  Even further from that, were the views of warriors with designs for a prince’s bed.  He could lose his position if not face banishment if something like that was spoken to the wrong person.

               Something like panic lit those golden eyes and she made a dismissive gesture before her free hand returned to lightly petting the green globe. “Do not fret…the dead know how to keep secrets.”  She glanced to the right to the gatekeeper’s page who was already frozen in a moment in time.  Nothing she said would be heard by anyone but who was meant to hear it.  “But you should learn that one brother’s moment in the sunlight does not have to mean that the other must take a step back into the shadows.  Love is more generous than that.  Envy and obsession, however…”

               He didn’t speak. He didn’t dare and she could care less.  She could see the question in his eyes he dared not utter.  He wanted to know where his honor was tarnished and she decided to be generous.  It would be a delight in the future to watch him struggle to be worthy of Valhalla.  “A warrior is no longer honorable if he is allowed to decide what vows he will keep and what vows he will ignore when convenient.”  Like the vows made to a king that will be ignored to benefit a prince.  “You should be careful, warrior.”  Holding up her forefinger and thumb an inch apart.  “You are this close in dishonor to becoming my permanent guest.”  He paled as much as he was able.  She just smirked in amusement.  “At least then Odin would have company that he would deem worthy of him…that should please you.”

               Heimdall blinked rapidly three times as the words were processed and understood. She was just as capable of lying as Loki was, but he took the warning for what it was.  With horror in his golden eyes he stood up straighter.  He didn’t bother to alert the warriors closer to the palace.  There was little that anyone could do against the magical force that Hela represented.

               Hela sat down, a large beast appearing under her. The general shape of a dog, but larger than a wolf.  The flames didn’t even seem to harm her as she sat amongst the heat, her clothing unaffected.  The hound started walking towards Asgard, she riding the creature sideways so she could study the people and structures as they passed.

               The buildings had been cleaned as much as they could be in the short amount of time provided.  The sun shone down, though there were thunder clouds hovering in the air.  All the decorations were appropriate for the crowning of a king, yet the colors were muted.  They were also the wrong colors for this particular king, tones of green instead of red.  The clothing was equally appropriate for those in mourning.  Curious.  The AEsir didn’t believe in regret.  If this were Odin, he would be holding a banquet to bolster spirits to celebrate those that survived instead of focusing on those that hadn’t.

                She felt surprised…and it pleased her.

* * *

                There was no fanfare this time.  The people had gathered because it was appropriate, but almost none had changed out of their mourning attire and this was what Thor wanted.  The few that had dressed as if the passing of the throne was all that was happening today were sent looks of scorn and disdain.

                It was a large gathering, yet it was too quiet.  Among the AEsir were a last minute addition of a group of light elves.  Et’ana Sigyn was among the delegation with Anya choosing to stay within their midst.  Her blue eyes kept looking around for someone even if she didn’t move.

                Thor didn’t look from side to side.  He wore the appropriate armor, but the cape at his back was black with muted green on the inside.  Mjolnir hung from his belt as he walked the distance to the throne, his face solemn.  The guard was on either side of him, their weapons sheathed. 

                There was so much missing that had been waiting for him on the day of his almost coronation.  There was no fanfare and the red runner had been rolled up and put away.  Now the stairs leading to the throne were nearly empty.  Father wasn’t standing at the top, waiting proudly to pass the mantle to him.  Mother wasn’t standing on the steps, looking regal and smiling with quiet pride.

                And Loki…

                He felt his heart clench and pain flash in his blue eyes, remembering with startling clarity what Loki had said to him just before the aborted coronation ceremony started.  “ _Sometimes I’m envious, but never doubt that I love you.”_

                He’d never reciprocated.  Not with words, not in years.  Thor wondered if he had said something that day if matters would have ended as they had.  Loki might not have believed him.  His brother still might have gone through with everything that led to now. _But what if I had_ …

                He took the steps slowly, passing by the warriors 3 and Sif who sent him support and encouragement with their eyes even as their faces remained tight with grief.  He’d told father he didn’t want the throne and he still didn’t.  If he were being honest he never had.  Whether intended or not, father had turned earning the throne into a competition between himself and Loki.  He’d wanted to win, just as he knew Loki had wanted to win.  He just hadn’t wanted the prize and he had a feeling neither had his brother.

                Even as he took his place, repeating the oaths of kings, his mind kept turning.  He wasn’t focused on the now.  His mind was wrapped around tonight, the funeral rites for his brother, the now departed king of Asgard.  He would finally be able to see his brother honored as he should have been…even if it was far too late.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_I know.  I'm a horrible, horrible author and I will be punished for doing this to you.  ...at least I hope I will..._

_**Next:** _

A choice


	19. Chapter 19

ASGARD

                Those assembled in the throne room were just rising from their formal bows to Asgard’s new king when a silky, sarcastic voice drifted from the back of the room.  “What an interesting day of **celebration**.”  Thor looked up with a grim frown as the crowd parted, those in front looking back to see who had dared to speak and then stumbling back when the identity of the interloper was revealed.  No one spoke or made a sound.  No one dared.  Still riding her hound, Hela approached the throne and spoke as she did, “It appears all but the people rejoice such an occasion.”

                Thor knew her by sight and knew better than to not answer.  He didn’t call the guards in, nor give any indications to the warriors three or Sif to act.  The last thing that Asgard needed right now was a new enemy to face.  “There is little to celebrate, Lady Hela.”

                She hummed softly to herself and hopped gracefully off her perch.  She left the magic globe she’d brought with her resting on the back of the hound and crossed the distance to the lowest stair leading to the throne.  She stopped and pursed her lips thoughtfully before casting a charm over herself and floating slowly upward.  She waited until they were at the same level, wanting to see the thunderer’s face as she asked curiously, “Are you not pleased to finally be Asgard’s king?”

                Thor didn’t bother to hide his grimace, nor could he hide the pain in his blue eyes if he even tried. “Not at the price that I was forced to pay for it.”

                She nodded slowly to herself, ticking off each one with a finger.  “Hmm…I suppose so.  Father, mother…and brother.  Or do you not acknowledge him as--…”

                Thor interrupted her immediately, his voice vehement though it quieted quickly with pain and loss, “Loki is-was my brother.  He ever shall be.”

                Hela refrained from grinning but the urge to do so was strong. _So delightful_.  Not that she was delighting in his pain.  Actually she was, but it wasn’t the only thing that delighted her. 

                “You do not belong here, witch.”

                She was distracted out of her delight with that statement.  Unlike Helblindi’s more respectful tone, this one was the exact opposite.  With a slowly lifted eyebrow Hela turned to regard one of the many fools that were part of the king’s Advisory Council.  She knew all of them at a glance and they all annoyed her.  This one had caught her attention more than once, Erling Geirsson.  He was an AEsir of average height and build, his grey hair pulled back and his grey beard cut neatly around his face.  “You are not the first person to utter such and you shall not be the last.”  Her green eyes moved over him in a sweeping gesture.  He was one of the few that didn’t dress as if he were in mourning.  “Besides, given the theme of the day I would say I am more appropriately dressed than yourself.”

                Thor held up a halting hand slightly, speaking firmly, “We have no quarrel, Lady Hela.”

                Erling was quick to protest, “To allow this creature to enter the hollowed throne room with no rebuke is an insult to your father, sire.  Only a--…”  He was smart enough to keep the word from escaping.  But it didn’t take a genius to infer what he was about to say.

                A few years ago, just the hint of someone calling Thor a coward would have sent him into a blind rage.  But it was a slightly more mature man who took a single step so that he was straddling two levels of the stairs as he growled, “…I believe you were about to impugn my honor by naming me a coward.”

                There was a wicked spark in Hela’s eyes as she lowered herself back to the floor and remarked dryly, “He’s done far worse in his lifetime.”

                “You know nothing of honor.”  Erling threw the words at Hela, offended she even had the nerve to say such things.

                She reaffirmed her attention on him.  “Yet you believe that you do.  Why?  Because you were born amongst the AEsir.”

                He held himself taller as he spoke down his nose at her, “You are sovereign over the damned of Niflheim, you are as corrupt as your people.”

                She didn’t laugh.  But she also didn’t rage.  All expression disappeared from her face as she spoke quietly, “Corrupt.  You would dare to see yourself as greater than me.  You?”  Now she laughed, but it was a jarring, mocking sound.  “Well then, let us examine this glorious life you have led and decide just who is the corrupt one.”  He opened his mouth to speak, his jaw closing with a snap as she cupped his face between both of her hands and leaned in closer until their noses almost touched.  “Shh…I want you to know this wasn’t my intent when I came here.  But you AEsir always do things the hard way.”  She leaned in closer until their lips were millimeters from one another.  “2768.”

                “What?”  He all but whimpered the word, trying desperately to move back but unable to do so.  It wasn’t clear if it was fear, magic, or something else that caused his paralysis.

                Hela smirked, enjoying his discomfort, but she leaned back and spoke a little louder so that others could hear, “2768.  That is the number of edicts and amendments to the law that you have either created yourself or penned into existence over the course of your lifetime that were for your own personal gain.”  She turned in a slow circle as she physically released him, a rolled up parchment appearing in her hand.  He still couldn’t move.  She raised it for one and all to see.  “I believe this one was the most delightful.  Your cousin is a blacksmith.  Not a very good one, he liked to cut corners and forge weapons and armor as economically as possible.  This law was a contract that forced the soldiers and lower ranked guardsmen to obtain from him exclusively.  A contract that he paid you handsomely for, which in turn made him very rich."  A cousin that was no longer living.  A cousin that had learned regret in the next life.  The tossed it at the nearest warrior who just happened to be Tyr.  “854.  That is the number of men who died because of this arrangement when their substandard weapons and armor failed them in battle.” 

                Tyr stiffened at that, turning to slowly glare as he understood the significance.  He wasn’t the only one.  “You call yourself an AEsir?”

                She didn’t pay the AEsir general any attention, focused on verbally destroying this little worm of a man. “Of the 2768 edicts, laws that Odin allowed into effect through arrogant stupidity, over the course of eight months Loki destroyed 2249 of them.”  There were murmurs among those present now.  Looks and whispers, not of surprise, but of satisfaction.  “No doubt had he reigned longer he would have found that rest.”  She bared her teeth at Erling.  “That is why you feared him.  At a young age it became painfully obvious which of the brothers would excel as a king…and which would excel as a general.  That is why you and yours were constantly whispering in Odin’s ear, _confiding_ to him your pride and pleasure in his first born.  Odin was a prideful fool and you knew it.  It was why you were trying to manipulate him into placing Thor on the throne.  You knew that unlike Thor, Loki had a firm grasp of the laws and the intellect to not be led around by his nose like some monarchs who shall not be named.” 

                “Conjecture and lies…”

                “You have no proof!”

                The protests were offered by other members of the Advisory Council in the crowd. Tyr felt his mouth quirk before he spoke quietly, “Usually the most vocal denials come from liars.”

                Hela gestured to the right and from above their heads a shadowy image appeared. But it moved, almost like a mortal video recording.  It was slightly distorted, but the people recorded were identifiable.  A recording of Erling with his peers, goblets in hand and satisfied smiles on their faces as they soundlessly toasted to one another.  “And that is why upon your return to Asgard you partook in a small celebration amongst yourselves to welcome in the next king…and to celebrate the short reign of Loki.  You knew that Thor would allow you to do as you willed because he has no interest in laws and politics.”  Hela glanced almost boredly over her shoulder at the silent thunderer.  “…too many trolls to fight, I suppose.

                Thor had felt anger before but it was different this time. It wasn’t the blind, beserker rage of battle that clouded his vision in red.  It was a sweeping rage that heated his blood.  But unlike the times before now, it was a rage that didn’t have anything to do with him.  He cared if he was seen as a weak king.  But he cared even more that anyone celebrated his brother’s death.  “You are all dismissed.”

                “With all due respect, sire, you cannot dismiss the entire Advisory Council.” The words Erling spoke were respectful and proper, but the look in his blue eyes was not.  Thor made a growling sound in the back of his throat and lightning flashed in his eyes.

                There were quiet murmurs among the crowd, Anya jumping in surprise as the elf next to her spoke. “He is right.”

                Thor diverted his attention to ask gruffly, “Who are you?”

                Sigyn was quick to smother a smile.  She was considered a delegate of Alfheim.  She had also been announced before she entered the throne room.  “You really are terrible at politics.”  She could have been gravely offended but she chose not to be.  Wars had been started for fewer reasons but she had no interest in wasting lives over a young king’s faults.  “I am Et’ana Sigyn of Alfheim.”

                Erling took a step, his tone dismissive, “You are a light elf, you know nothing of AEsir law.”

                Thor continued to watch her curiously as she calmly retorted, “As a matter of fact I do know something of your laws.” A small smile that wasn’t quite filled with amusement crossed her face.  “I travel to the different realms frequently, I find it prudent to be well versed in the laws of the land.”

                The AEsir king ignored Erling sputtering and nodded in her direction. “Please continue, Lady Sigyn.”

                Sigyn folded her hands loosely in front of her body. “He is correct that the Advisory Council cannot be summarily dismissed.  What he has not mentioned is that a temporary council can be organized is lieu of that dismissal until permanent replacements are appointed.”  Erling glared while Sif perked up.  Thor’s expression turned thoughtful.  “There is also no stipulation that this temporary measure need be comprised of any members from the previous Advisory Council.”

                Thor’s gaze swung to the people who were the closest to him. Their relationship was still rocky at the moment, but their honor would not allow their current difficulties with him to harm Asgard or the people.  Sif made sure to meet the eyes of each of them before nodding her head forward in a short bow.  “We would be honored, sire.”

                Thor returned to the throne that was now his and sat, speaking so that his voice boomed through the throne room as he did so, “The Advisory Council is summarily dismissed. Warrior Sif, Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral will stand as council until permanent seats are arranged.”

                Any hints of rebellion were quickly quelled when the warriors present sharpened their gazes.  Erling turned to retreat with the others, spun around when Hela gestured and her magic yanked him.  She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “You have lived for 3792 years.  Of that time you have fought in no wars.  Your status as an aristocrat by birth allowed you to move from your training among the guard directly to the Council.  You have served power and profit at the expense of others.  People have been maimed and have died because of you.  You have carved quite the existence of luxury for yourself in this life.  I assure you that you will pay the debt owed in the next life because you are **known** to me.”  With a horrified cry he stumbled back, falling to the ground.  She didn’t pursue him, watching with amusement on her face as in his panic he used his hands and feet to push himself away from her, scooting across the floor on his backside, without presenting his back to her.  A truly evil smile brightened her face for a moment.  “See you soon.”

                With a high pitched scream that caused several to spontaneously laugh, Erling flipped over and scrambled to his feet before running.  The crowd let him.  Hela’s face returned to its naturally blank state, shaking her head slightly to herself.  “Run as you like, coward.  Death comes to you all.”

                “Was there another purpose to your visit, Lady Hela?”

                Hela’s gaze swept over those assembled, pausing for the slightest of moments at Anya who was staring back intensely, before returning her attention to Thor. “Well, on such a **joyous** day I believe that a gift between realms is appropriate.”  He raised a hand as if to object and she made a tutting noise as she asked, “Do you not remember the first diplomatic rule?”  His face made a different sort of grimace, remembering that diplomacy had always been Loki’s strength.  “It is rude to refuse such an offer.”

                She made a slight gesture behind her and Thor focused on the flamed creature for the first time, asking in halting surprise, “Is that…a hellhound?”

                “Yes.”

                There were gasps as well as screams.  Those with weapons had them in hand now that the flamed beast was actually identified.  Thor’s voice was firm, wanting no part of Niflheim in Asgard. “That creature has no place here.”

                Hela huffed with a roll of her eyes, running her fingers over her pet’s head to calm the beast as the hound shifted restlessly. “I have no intention of giving you my pet.  I wouldn’t even dream of it.  Besides, the only way she could stay were she to feast on your commoners.”  Hela wrinkled her nose slightly as if the thought was silly.  “No doubt your AEsir sensibility would object.”

                Thor’s hand twitched for Mjolnir but he left the hammer on his belt, demanding an honest response, “Then what do you intend?”

                “To give you this.”  Hela picked up the globe and slowly panned around to show one and all.

                There were soft murmurs amongst the crowd, speculation as to what it was, but no one was even close.  Thor was frowning as he asked, “What is it?”

                “A truly powerful weapon.  Enough power to rip worlds apart…or destroy an enemy like Surtur.”  Clarifying the type of power that she held in her hands.  “Magic.  More magic than has ever been contained in a single living being…save once.”

                The looks of disbelief were fewer than she expected.  Again she was impressed.  It appeared that Loki left more of an impression than he believed.  Thor just shook his head slightly.  “I would not know what to do with it.”

                It was no great secret that Thor was a true AEsir warrior who would never understand magic.  But for the first time in a great while she had hope that perhaps she could explain enough to help him understand.  “I am well aware.  So I will give you the advice that had Odin the sense to heed, the present would be very different.”  Advice she’d attempted to impart as a light elf over a thousand years ago.  Not an altruistic gesture, but just an attempt to at least level the playing field.  But even back then Odin had been a fool.  It just made his defeat even more delightful.  A slight smile pulled at the flesh of her lips, her fingers lightly caressing the top of the glowing sphere as she slowly ascended the steps.  “Magic is like love, my dear king.  Love can be found in the oddest of places but it cannot be forced to remain.  It cannot be contained.  It cannot be controlled.”  She met him on the platform before the throne.  Anyone else would have been stopped and chastised, if not killed for such blasphemy.  But this was the Goddess of the Underworld.  No one dared.  “And like love it can be nurtured.  In the right hands it can be cared for until it changes and grows into something glorious…and in the wrong hands it will become twisted and ugly.”

                Thor looked down at it and for the first time really examined the small sphere.  She held out her hand and after a moment the globe leapt out of her grip and Thor was quick to catch it.  It felt like glass in his hands and though it glowed there was no heat.  Nothing about it was recognizable, save the color.  The exact same shade of his eyes.  “It’s green…”

                Her eyebrow arched slightly as she replied.  “Of course it is.  Magic is uniquely flavored, colored if you will, by the one who wields it.”  Loki was unlike any other creature in the nine.  With the magic that he carried in life he was powerful.  But magic was a willing slave that would not part from its master easily.  She thought of his attire.  “It always was his favorite color after all.”

                Anya stood up a little straighter.  Everyone  else held their breath with that little hint.  No one moved.  No one dared.  But every one of them was listening fiercely.  Thor questioned hesitantly, fear and hope intermingled, “Why doesn’t he change back?”

                “Perhaps he’s tired of the form he was born within.”  Hela shrugged easily and glided down the steps.  She traveled to the hellhound’s side before pausing to turn.  Her voice was a strange combination of accusation and quiet dismissal.  “After all, was it not your own father who once said that it is a birthright to be the son of a king but an accomplishment to be a prince?”  Quiet murmurs filled the throne room as Thor slowly tore his gaze away from the sphere of magic.  “Then why was he never respected for that achievement?  Because he simply wasn’t big and blond enough?”  Thor visibly flinched.  He wasn’t the only one.  “Perhaps he’s done playing with the rest of you and he will journey to Valhalla to be with his mother.”

                “…our mother and father.”  The correction from Thor was almost automatic.

                She crossed her arms loosely over her chest, well aware she could leave it as a misunderstanding or correct him.  She chose to reveal Odin’s disgrace. “I said what I meant.  You assume much to presume Yggdrasil is forgiving when funeral rites are denied.”  Eyes widened.  Those gathered shifted in unease and a thought hovered before it settled amongst those assembled.  A thought that could never be given voice, but would be remembered.  That even a king as great as the All-father can act in dishonor.

                Hela considered him for another moment before she stated quietly, “At the moment he sleeps…but after hearing the right words he might awaken.”

                Desperation lit those blue eyes before Thor looked back down to focus on the magic he held.  This could all be an elaborate trick, a torment devised by Hela.  But even if this proved to do nothing more than to make him a fool he didn’t care.  Not if there was even a sliver of hope that he could still have his brother back.

                “…Loki?” His words were quiet, ignoring those present leaning closer to hear him.  He was at a loss, unsure of what to say or do to win Loki back.  His demands had a way of falling on deaf ears with Loki.  His brother usually did the exact opposite just to spite him.  Honesty had always been his strength.  And suddenly he knew what he needed to say.  “I cannot make vows for the rest of Asgard, brother, but I can promise for myself.  If it is the crown that you wish you will have it.  If you desire that I leave Asgard then I shall.”  Eyes widened, gasps filling the space.  Someone from the crowd took a step only for Sif to draw her sword with flinty determination in her gaze.  The warriors three were only seconds behind her.  If this was what Thor wanted then they would support him…and silently their own vows of what they would do if Loki returned were added to Thor’s words. 

               Thor was unaware of what was happening around him as he continued, “My only request if that is your command is that you will visit me, for I have missed your company and would spend a lifetime proving this to you.” His voice shook, unashamed of the tears that silently fell.  He had lost everything to ascend to the throne, a prize that he found he didn’t want if this was the price that was taken in recompense.  “Please, brother…”

               Sif glanced back in surprise, never hearing Thor beg for anything before. Hela paused in her retreat to regard Asgard’s new king.  The prideful prince was gone and in his place was a man who had determined what truly mattered to him.  It wasn’t the thrill of victory.  It wasn’t the vain feeling of accomplishment when vanquishing one’s foes.  It wasn’t being king.

                Family. Friendships.  What mattered was the people a man surrounded himself with.  It was in celebrating individuality, of the strengths **and** the weaknesses of others.  The establishing of a legacy was important, but not if there was no one left behind to continue that legacy.

                Love. In spite of AEsir perceptions love wasn’t a weakness and the thunderer finally understood that.  Love would have prevented all of this from happening.  Some actions and reactions were inevitable, but it would have prevented Loki’s fall.  A man who was worthy to be called brother of the trickster of Asgard.

                Hela smirked as she turned, holding up her hand with palm up and blew softly back in Thor’s direction. Just a little push to help the sleeping trickster to awaken.  Then Loki would decide if he would stay or not. 

                A glittering something flew and twirled within the air, Thor oblivious as he gently held the small globe of green magic between both palms. His blue eyes widened as the sparkling swirl of wind, ash, and blood wrapped around the green globe.  Ash to give him shape.  Blood, the direct ties to his kin.  And one extra drop to perhaps give him something that had been missing.  Whispers filled the air, not from the mouths of those present but they were heard nonetheless.

                Whispers in different voices of silent wishes. Whispers of unspoken hope.  Thor heard Sif.  He heard Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral.  He heard his own voice added to the chorus of gentle whispers.  The words were different but the meaning behind it was the same.  A plea for the return of Asgard’s second son.  The magic globe shimmered and vibrated a second before Loki appeared in front of him.

               Thor’s eyes widened, breathing his name. “Loki…”

               Cries and gasps filled the air. Fandral’s jaw hit the floor, barely even noticing Sif’s sword clatter against stone as it slipped from her grasp.  Volstagg stared in wonder and Hogun paled.  Thor noticed none of this, focused on his brother.

               Loki blinked slowly, his eyes distant and unfocused. A strange smile that didn’t quite belong spread across his face.  A smile that Thor hadn’t remembered seeing since Loki had been a very small boy.  A smile full of mischief and innocence.  Even his voice was odd as his spoke.  His tone was soft and gentle, with the faintest of lisps that young boys carry, “Thor…I had…the strangest dream…”

                His green eyes rolled back in his head, his body crumpling but not impacting with the ground.  Thor was quick to catch the trickster, fresh tears in his eyes as he pulled his brother into a tight embrace and held his unconscious form against his chest.

* * *

 

_**Author's Notes:** _

_It took me waaay too long to decide how this chapter was going to cut off.  This one's a smidge shorter than originally intended but I didn't want to break the flow._

_**Next:** _

_Loose ends_

 


	20. Chapter 20

HELHEIM

                Hela paused, hearing Odin roaring through her halls before she even entered her palace.  She wrapped shadows around herself before entering unseen.  The dead for the most part had lingered back to watch him rage, Farbauti shaking her head with an unimpressed expression that Loki had obviously inherited from her.

                While Odin had done a decent job of tearing apart any available surface he had been smart enough to not lay his hands on her throne. Because she would have ripped his arms off…and not given them back.

                She let the shadows around her fade at the same moment she gestured and repaired the damage. He whirled on her with his teeth bared.  “You planned all of this.”  She knew his reaction had all to do with pride, which had been grievously injured thanks to the now public knowledge of his disgrace.

                She just smirked at him.  “Both of your sons live and will rule Asgard…until Thanos destroys this cycle.  Find satisfaction in that.”

                Odin snarled at her wordlessly before approaching, forgetting himself in his rage.  “You have brought shame to my house.  How do I rejoice in that?”

                Hela retorted with vicious words and a cool temper.  “You brought shame to your house, Odin.  A man who took a child to be a political tool.  A _coward_ who couldn’t find the courage to tell that child the truth.  A man who was a terrible father.  You allowed your children to raise themselves, both of them spoiled and both unfit to rule because of it.  One son with the knowledge and power, but without the charisma and support.  The other with the warrior’s prowess and character to be a just king, but with no knowledge or cunning.” 

                Farbauti sighed tiredly as she asked, “Must we lament over this again?”

                Hela glanced at her for the briefest of moments before nodding slightly. “You are right.”  She gestured and vines grew out of the ground, snaring the AEsir king and wrapping around him tightly.  “I had forgotten how preoccupied the dead become, only concerned with what could have been.”  He started roaring incomprehensibly and struggling and she calmly produced a thick roll of duct tape which she held in one hand.  “ODIN.”  Even the former king of the AEsir stilled at that tone.  “Unless you wish to experience the joy of removing this after having your hairy person bound in it you will be silent.  Now.”  Odin noticed every human male who knew what it actually was shudder.  Fool though he was.  He was a man full of arrogance and bluster but he apparently had at least a little common sense and chose to be silent.  She smiled at him now, a vicious smile of all teeth.  “I think I like you this way.”  She turned from a bound Odin dismissively and ascended to her throne, tossing her words back over her shoulder, “Besides, what is to come is so much more entertaining.”

                Farbauti studied the former AEsir king who struggled silently.  And though he was incorporeal, for some reason the vines held him.  With a dismissive shrug she turned her attention to her queen.  “So you will step back and watch the path unfold?”

                Hela waited until she was seated and carefully put the tape on a small pedestal next to her before answering Farbauti’s quiet query, “I might…none of the cycles yielded this result.  It will be interesting to see what develops.”

                The former Jötunheim queen blinked once in surprise.  “None of them?”  Over a thousand-thousand possible pasts, and not one of them yielded this present?

                Hela looked distantly amused as she leaned back.  “No.  More often than not Surtur is defeated and a good many of the AEsir perish with him.”

                “Loki?”

                “If he chooses to aid them, he dies with them.”  Hela’s green eyes turned distant as she reflected on those other possibilities.  More often than not Loki did choose to aid them for in only some of those possibilities had this battle been by his design.  “The surviving AEsir return to Asgard and Thor returns to Midgard with tail tucked firmly between his legs.”  A grim little smile curled her lips.  “I even recall one instance where Sif takes command after Thor’s departure and orders the last remnants of the AEsir to Vanaheim.”  Sif had stepped forward and the AEsir had followed her as a queen, even without the title.  It had been a short cycle, the nine realms destroyed soon after but Hela still remembered that possibility.

                Farbauti’s expression had turned thoughtful, both ladies ignoring Odin still huffing and struggling silently.  “And how is this result different?”

                “Both are recognized kings of Asgard.  That’s never happened before.”  It had never happened before and she doubted if it would ever happen again.  For she had been speaking the truth, Loki never repeated himself.  She tapped her chin with a finger, looking thoughtful.  “If what I suspect is about to occur, I may have to whisper in Sigyn’s ear.”

                “The…light elf queen?”

                Hela nodded slowly.  “Et’ana Sigyn.  She is Alfheim’s queen and in some of the cycles she and Loki take an interest in one another.”

                “If the end is approaching then what would be the point?”

                The Helheim queen waved a dismissive hand, looking amused.  “Oh no, there is still time.  And unless I am mistaken, which I am not, Sif has also taken an interest in Loki.”  Now she grinned as new plans started to unfurl in her mind.  This was a whole new possibility and it must be explored in full.  “It might be interesting to see which lady wins his heart if that occurs.”

                “Why would you cause him heartache?”  Distress filled Farbauti’s tone at the thought of causing her son distress.

                “He is a favorite of mine.  I favor him because of how he reacts.”  Hela looked over one of her favorite denizens who still didn’t look especially pleased with her.  Feeling generous since she was in such a good mood, she decided to explain.  “An unchallenged life is a boring life and one not worth watching.”  Sighing in satisfaction while Farbauti sighed in resignation.  “Besides, he could be happy with either of them for different reasons.  If anything it will be one of them that will have a broken heart.”

* * *

ASGARD

                Loki didn’t quite leap back to consciousness.  He was drifting for a while, the murmur of voices in the distance slowly catching his attention.  He felt fuzzy, his head stuffed full of cotton and his mouth far too dry.  Thankfully he also felt his magic gently kissing the tips of his fingers or life wouldn’t have been worth living.  But he felt something else.  Something strange.  For the first time in his life he felt like wherever he was, he was home.

                That had been what had devastated him the most.  Learning that he was a stolen Jötunn prince, it suddenly explained why he had felt like an outsider for all of his life.  The realm had always seemed just a little too bright and hot and not quite right.  The people were strange creatures he couldn’t quite relate to.  It was more than just instinct.  Anyone who wielded seidr felt the ebb and flow of the world around them.  As a mage, without even understanding why, he had always known Asgard wasn’t his world. 

                At every turn he was told he was just imagining things.  That he was mistaken.  That he was wrong.  To protect the one lie of his true birthright, countless others had been piled on top of it.  Was it any wonder his ability to trust had been destroyed?  Was it so hard to grasp why he couldn’t believe words like “love” and “family” if they, the race who practically worshipped truth, could lie so easily to him?  Why would anyone be surprised at the depth of his rage? 

                Yet for some reason that feeling was gone.

                His brow furrowed as he slowly forced his heavy eyes to open.  It was the most taxing of endeavors to blink and as he was able to focus he identified a familiar face in the small room with him.  “Anya…”

                Her head jerked up from the book she was reading at his bedside within the healing rooms when she heard his rasping call, a large smile instantly followed.  She ducked her head slightly a moment later and retrieved a small glass of water from the stand next to the bed he was occupying.

                He was silently grateful for her assistance for he didn’t feel he could manage to lift a hand towards the glass, much less his head to drink the contents.  Without a word she assisted him and had just put the glass back on the side table when Eir walked in with her usual air of professional authority.

                “Ah, sire.  It is good to see you awaken.”  There was even a gentle relief in her eyes, supporting her words.

                Loki studied her for just a moment, searching for any sign of pity and as usual finding none. “Indeed.  Am I to assume I have been forgotten already?”

                Her expression turned slightly amused but there was a note of exasperation to her tone. In truth she had been nearly overwhelmed with the inquiries to the point that she had almost lost her temper with Thor and his friends.  “Without inflating your ego too much I will simply state that you have had a great many inquiries.”

                “Truly?” Surprise flittered across his face as he asked.  He would have expected perhaps a few polite inquiries but enough of them to irritate Eir had been outside of his expectation.

                “Of course.” Loki nervously noted something too close to understanding in her eyes.  He was thankful when she turned her attention to a more professional discussion.  “Your return amongst us is without precedent but I would expect nothing less than a full recovery.  Now that you have awoken your brother will be pleased.”  A not so subtle hint that Thor was on his way.  The fact that the healer said this while looking at Anya made Loki very suspicious.  He gave the healer a very small smile, the most he usually granted her.  Eir returned the gesture before she soundlessly slipped out without a word.

                Loki turned his attention to Anya who was frowning at the fingers in her lap.  After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence her frown deepened before she asked, “May I bring you anything, sire?”  She hadn’t quite begged Eir for an advanced warning but the healer knew how to read between the lines.  The AEsir healer also firmly believed that as Anya’s loyalty to Loki had never wavered she had more than earned the right to access to him even ahead of his own brother.

                He studied her, took note of the faint blush on her cheeks and slowly shook his head before asking softly, “What must you do?”

                Her head jerked up in surprise, poised to feign ignorance.  “Sire--?”  She didn’t even complete the question at the look on his face.

                His tone wasn’t much more inviting.  “Anya, I am not in the mood.”

                She pulled in a breath as if she were pulling together her courage.  “You succeeded and you survived.”  Anya ducked her head again as she moved a few strands of hair behind her ear.  The unconscious act displayed the narrow streak of ebony within the blond strands.  He frowned slightly to himself, not noticing that color within her hair before.

                Were he to see his own reflection, he would see a few strands of gold hidden within the normally pure ebony locks.  Not that he would understand the significance, even upon seeing it.  It wasn’t that he was incapable of understanding, but he didn’t know the context behind it.

                They weren’t related in any sort of biological sense but that tiny drop of blood had formed a connection between them.  Nothing so dramatic as a blood bond, but a tie that the seidr running through his veins recognized.  Asgard was her home.  So because of her, Asgard had become his home.

                He decided to play along, knowing he would ferret out the truth from her eventually.  “Mhmm…I believe that is rather obvious.”

                Anya’s voice quieted and she hesitated before speaking further.  “Those were the conditions for Lady Hela’s assistance.”  Then a completely perplexed expression crossed her face.  “I am also to inform you that part of this aid was gifted by your younger brother.”

                Loki felt himself internally and externally freeze.  There were extended cousins but in spite of the myths there were no other sons of Odin.  Which meant that Hela was indicating assistance by way of his Jötunn relatives.  He breathed the word “why” without even thinking it through.

                Anya spoke slowly, still not seeing the connection but relaying what Hela had told her, “To be a monster is a choice, not a genetic predisposition.”

                Jötunn were monsters.  It was what he grew up thinking and believing, taught this by the words and stories of those around him.  He shoved it to the side, refusing to get wrapped up in that debate but no matter how hard he tried, the words still burrowed into his mind.  He may not want to think about it, but his eternally working mind wouldn’t allow him to stop thinking about it.  A thought that would eventually form a doubt.  A doubt that would later grow and allow him to ponder the possibility that perhaps he was only a monster if he chose to be one.

                Instead of responding to the confusion dancing in her eyes, for internally he was just as confused, he huffed, “I knew her price was insufficient.” Loki rolled his eyes with a sigh but he wasn’t truly annoyed.  He was more concerned about what price Anya had paid for him, because if it was too high once he was back on his feet he and Lady Death were going to have a little chat.  “So we return to the question.  What must you do?”

                She nibbled on the inside of her lower lip before she suddenly blurted out, “I have to hug you.”

                Loki froze for several seconds.  “You have to hug me.”  It was a statement, not a question.  He blinked rapidly several times, certain he had heard her wrong.  When no further response was offered his head tilted ever so slightly and asked, “And this distresses you?”  Anya glanced up and stilled.  Even though his voice was teasing it didn’t quite match his expression as something like hurt crossed his face. “Am I truly that repulsive--…”

                “Of course not!”  He didn’t look reassured and she was starting to realize given how currently expressive his normally guarded features were that at the moment he wouldn’t be able to easily hide what he was truly feeling.  She pulled in a slow breath and explained her hesitation, “It’s not proper conduct for a servant to presume…”

                His scowl was instantaneous as well as the relief.  “If you mention rank one more time in an effort to distance us I will ennoble you.”

                She sputtered and his scowl slowly melted in his amusement as he listened to her struggle to retort, “…you…you cannot…”

                Loki just raised a single eyebrow and continued, “I believe I can.  Keep saying that and I will do it just to spite you.”  He gave a dramatic sigh a moment later to try to put her at ease.  “You might as well get it over with.”

                Anya studied him but he just stared calmly back.  She felt truly awkward as she sat on the edge of his bed.  His face was not quite blank but even with his currently compromised facial control she couldn’t tell what he was feeling.  She leaned into him since he didn’t have the strength to meet her halfway, wrapping her arms around his torso.  She felt him stiffen reflexively, before she felt him relax into her.

                Loki felt his face contort in a pained expression he had no control over before he relaxed into her embrace.  It had been too long since he’d felt a gentle, innocent touch.  Her cheek was resting on his shoulder so it wasn’t difficult for him to duck his head down as his arms tightened around her in return, unwilling for this to end.

                He didn’t have to say a word or make a sound.  She could feel the way he was holding onto her, his fingers lightly clenching her clothing, that he wasn’t merely indulging her.  ‘…why did you never say anything?’

                Anya had assumed she had thought the words to herself, until he muttered a soft reply against her shoulder.  “Not even for something that is needed...”

                She would never mock him.  She would never even breathe a word of this.  The corner of her mouth quirked in amusement before she asked, “Then I should hug you once daily?”

                It had the desired effect as quiet amusement filled his voice.  “It might become rather medicinal if you did so.”  She giggled ever so softly.  But she also resolved to herself that this wouldn’t be the last time.

                Eir cleared her throat for the third time, speaking softly.  “Your highness, Lord Thor is almost here.”

                When Anya stiffened with a great deal of reluctance Loki allowed her to make a hasty retreat.  Her reasons may be for propriety but his had little to do with it.  If Thor caught him hugging Anya, all sorts of teasing would commence and he preferred to have the upper hand when dealing with his brother.  She did pause to squeeze his hand before exiting swiftly.  In all honesty Loki would have preferred the hug to continue so Thor’s pending arrival put him in a foul mood.

* * *

                Thor paused at the entrance to the private room Eir had set aside for Loki.  Hunther was standing guard proudly, though he bowed appropriately and stepped aside so that the king of Asgard could enter. **One** of the kings of Asgard.  It’s not as if vows can be taken away.  Thor had already decreed the decision would be Loki’s, though he would prefer if they could rule together.

                Their friends were absolutely beside themselves.  Sif was filled with all sorts of worries.  Worry of what Hela wanted in recompense for her actions.  Worry that Loki wouldn’t survive his recent return from the beyond.  She, all of them, had been pestering Eir for updates.  The only reason they weren’t here now was because Thor had made the healer promise he would have a private moment first before the rest of Asgard came knocking.

                With a slight nod he entered the room, breathing the word.  “Brother…”

                His brother was tucked under thick blankets.  He was scowling heavily, but his green eyes weren’t as sharp as usual.  It was no doubt due to the herbs and medicines running through his system.  Thor had come as soon as Eir had confirmed that Loki would be awake by the time he arrived.  Loki was as snarky as ever, much to Thor’s relief. “You have, yet again, thwarted my wishes for a simple end to my own existence.”

                Thor didn’t slam the door behind him but he did close it.  He didn’t want something like that being overheard out of context.  He pulled in a slow breath before correcting Loki quietly.  “You do not truly mean that.”

                Loki’s scowl only deepened as he retorted, “Do I not? Do not tell me what I mean.”

                The thunderer hid his grimace, unable not to feel hurt and sorrow. He wasn’t certain if Loki were just in a mood, jesting, or sincere.  He honestly didn’t want to know though he suspected it had to do with Loki currently being trapped in bed.  Loki always had been prickly in being perceived as weak after being injured.  “In actuality it was Hela who did so.”

                “Figures…”  Loki muttered the word to himself, indulging in just a bit of a sulk.  Yet he couldn’t say he was completely disappointed to having survived and it surprised him.  His brow slightly furrowed and he glanced at Thor to find the thunderer still standing there.  Huffing at him before asking, “Is court really so boring that staring at me is more entertaining?”  He didn’t need to ask to know that Thor had been crowned.  After such a war Asgard would need a king as soon as possible.

                “Asgard can wait.”  Loki felt both eyebrows hike up at that declaration.  Odin would never have taken a moment away from the throne because one of his sons needed him.  He had assumed Thor would be the same.  Thor noticed Loki’s surprise and nodded his head slightly.  “I wanted to see you awake with my own eyes.”

                Loki rolled his eyes and made a slightly dismissive gesture with his hand.  “And I have done so.  Your self-appointed task complete yet still you remain.”  He shifted a pillow under his back slightly and pushed himself up enough so he was more comfortable.

                “I made a vow--…”

                “I recall hearing nothing so you might as well return to your throne.”  Loki cut him off with a casual tone but there was a hint of warning within his voice as well.  Knowledge passed between the two of them silently.  His spirit may have been safely contained in a small sphere of magic but he had somehow heard the vows.

                “I meant what I said, brother.”  Thor remained stiff and awaiting Loki’s word.  Thor had meant his vow and would in no way persuade his brother to choose anything but what Loki wanted.  “Say what you wish and it will be so.”

                Loki was clearly agitated, unable to hide it.  “I wish for you to allow me to recover before ambushing me for decisions I have yet to decide.”

                “That was not my intent…”  Thor slowly frowned as he trailed off, brow furrowed, before turning towards the door. 

                Loki sighed and rubbed his face with his hand in irritation. Only this time it was with himself.  He was not in the best mood since he was deprived of his hug before he was ready.  Not to mention he hated pity almost as much as he hated appearing weak.  He could easily imagine his mother frowning at him for trying to start a fight and he was surprised to find the thought of her not as painful as it had been just a short while ago.  The empty hole in his heart was still there, but the desire to see all of Asgard burn for failing her was fading.  “I assume Asgard was victorious.”

                Thor smiled before he turned back, knowing Loki wouldn’t call him back with an apology but thankful he did it with a convenient excuse. “Of course we were, b--…Loki.”  He wasn’t certain if Loki’s agitation stemmed from the identifier but he was almost desperate to keep peace between them.  “Your actions assured it was so.  They will be speaking of your victory through the feasting hall for centuries to come.”

                Loki snarled lowly, focused on only one thing. “If you stop calling me brother now, so help me Thor I will order Sif to kick you out of Asgard since she will have no choice in obeying.”  He smirked evilly.  “Her vow if I retained this body.  I cannot wait to rub it in her face.”

                “Brother.” There was as much warning as there was affection in the word.

                Mentally Loki grimaced a second later, heat racing across his face. He remembered only too well what he had said to her. _What in Helheim had I been thinking?_ No, he was certain of his own demise.  He knew what he’d been thinking.  How tragic that even he could fall prey to being a melodramatic fool.  It had been the truth, but he knew better than to offer potentially damaging truths on the chance that fate had decided to have a bit more fun with him.  Perhaps avoiding her for the next millennia or two would be the best plan.  But then again if she wasn’t actively avoiding him she might be slightly receptive to the idea.  Hmm…

                Thor nodded once to himself, knowing this was his chance. He’d made too many assumptions concerning his and Loki’s brotherhood.  If one or both of them departed for Valhalla tomorrow he would make certain that Loki knew his heart.  Such talks were also something that Loki avoided at all costs.  This was the one time Loki couldn’t run as he was prone to.  Pushing aside his own pride and taking advantage of Loki’s distraction, he reached down and wrapped his arms firmly but carefully around his brother. 

                Loki stiffened in his arms as he was pulled away from the pillows but the trickster found he didn’t have the capability to fight the thunderer. He was awake but his body was still recovering and currently his mind was slightly muddled.  Magic should never be used if the mind wasn’t sharp and clear. His voice muffled by Thor’s tunic, trying to sound calm but Thor noted a hint of panic.  “Thor?  What are you doing?”  At least Anya had asked for permission.  Not that he would have rebuked her even if she hadn’t.

                “I wish to say what should have been said long before now.”

                Loki turned his head enough so that his face was at least partially visible from Thor’s tunic. “And you must touch me to speak?”

                Thor nodded once solemnly, his voice grave. “Aye.”

                “Unnecessary.” Loki pushed at his shoulder with a single finger.

                After a second the thunderer shrugged that shoulder. “Yet I find it vital.”

                “Thor…” Horror crossed Loki’s face.  He wasn’t whining.  He wasn’t!

                Thor grinned just a little at the whine that had crept in, his hesitation gone, and ignored Loki’s soft protests. “You have played many roles in my life.  Friend.  Advisor.  Confidant.  Rival.  Enemy.  But most of all, you have been my brother.  It was true from the day I peered over the edge of your pram to see you for the first time, just as it is true now.  I care not where you were born.  I care not who your parents are or are not.  I care not that you are an arrogant fool.” 

                “You’re the arrogant fool, not I.” Loki growled softly at that one and squirmed but he wasn’t going anywhere until Thor allowed it. 

                Thor continued on, putting conviction in his tone. “I only care that you are Loki, brother of Thor.  No one, not even you, can ever change that.”  The words Loki spoke to him before his failed coronation came to him again.  He leaned his head down to speak what should have been his reply in Loki’s ear and he knew by Loki stilling that he was listening.  “Sometimes I’m oblivious, but never doubt that I love you.”  Thor wasn’t certain what Loki’s reaction would be or if he even remembered that moment but he hoped more than anything his brother believed him.

                Loki stopped breathing for a full two heart beats before swallowing thickly. He blinked rapidly, his brow furrowed in pain before whispering harshly from trembling lips.  “ _Damn you_.”  His left hand clenched around Thor’s tunic as he ducked his head further to hide his face.  Anger, joy, sorrow, love; Loki couldn’t even begin to define all the emotions swelling in him.  But they overwhelmed him, welling up before spilling down his cheeks in release.  If Thor noticed that his tunic became slightly damp, he never mentioned it.

                Thor stayed still, eyes closed in relief that his brother believed him. The past was as it was, but Thor knew that Loki would never deny they were brothers again.  They remained unmoving until he felt Loki unclench his hold on his tunic.  Taking the silent hint for what it was, he released Loki and took a step back.  He ignored the trickster quickly passing a hand over his face and clearing his throat before asking hoarsely, “How fairs the repairs?”

                “Slow but they have begun.” Thor let the conversation turn.  Most probably it would never be brought up again but it didn’t need to.

                Loki settled himself back against the pillows. He silently praised and damned Eir in the same breath.  Whatever she had given him left him blissfully pain free as his overworked nerve endings coped with he in fact having a body again.  On the other hand his mind was dulled by it so he had little control over his emotions and he had the insane urge to hug Thor.  Again. 

                Which wasn’t happening.

                “Once my mind is clearer we will need to have a discussion.” A curious look crossed Thor’s face and Loki didn’t keep him waiting.  “A warning that Odin would never have heeded since it comes from me but I feel certain you will.”  A warning that a mad titan called Thanos was coming.

                Thor could see that Loki was drooping just a little, whether because of physical exhaustion or emotional he wasn’t certain. He was reluctant to be parted so soon but he wanted Loki to regain his strength.  “I should leave you to your rest…”

                “I said that my mind was unclear, not that I had difficulty with my ears. It will simply mean that for once you will regale me with stories.”  What Loki could have normally said with a snappish tone was mysteriously absent.  Instead Loki was examining the sheets covering him, plucking at them with restless fingers.  Almost as if he were nervous Thor would refuse.

                Thor’s smile was beaming as he regained his seat, spinning stories about his adventures with the Avengers. Loki settled in and got comfortable.  Perhaps Thor didn’t realize how much information he was passing on concerning his mortal allies.  Then again he just might and it was a gesture of trust.  Loki just smirked quietly and listened, nodding when appropriate but all the while his mind was still focused on what was to come.  It wouldn’t last. 

                Thanos. The infinity gems. 

                War was coming and no doubt they would all be thrown together. It was a certainty which part Thor would play, his brother the eternal hero.  Sif and the warriors 3 would follow whoever asked them to do so, though Loki had a quiet suspicion that they would now heed his request over Thor’s.  But he was Loki, there was no such thing as certainty for him.  Perhaps he would still die gloriously.  Perhaps he would choose to assist the Avengers and his brother or perhaps he would choose his own path.

                Whatever the outcome, Hela was doubtlessly going to spend the next few years being entertained.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:** _

_Whew.  It's done.  Sorry for the delay but I wanted to get this chapter just right and 'cause I was suddenly inspired by duct tape.  Thanks for joining me on this ride.  Hope you enjoyed._

 


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